No Good Thief
by QuirkDemon
Summary: Ena is a now sixteen year old girl who's been living on the streets for 1 and a half years. when she tries to pickpocket Aragorn she is forced to go w/ them to Rivendell. what will happen to them when she joins the Fellowship? (had to remove and repost, all previous chapters inside)
1. Chapter 1

"No good thief!"

Ena was running so fast she didn't feel her feet hit the asphalt when she jumped off the baker's porch. It was like she was flying, she was going so fast. She'd stolen from the bakery before, it was always too easy, and this time the owner was ready. He'd set up a watch with his workers and they'd caught her—well, almost. They saw her, they didn't _catch_ her. No matter, she got what she wanted.

Now, Ena didn't like to steal. She simply didn't always have much a choice. Living on the streets left few choices. Bela, the owner, was sick of Ena's games. He didn't care that she was a homeless sixteen year old girl. All that mattered was that she had stolen form him multiple times and he was tired of it. But Ena wasn't called Ena for nothing. She lived by the meaning of her name; passionate and fiery. She didn't give up without a fight. Not ever.

Ena would be back to his bakery, she always was. Some of the workers there liked her and/ or had sympathy for her enough to give her a treat for free—without their boss's knowledge of course.

Ena slowed to a walk and strode calmly down the street munching on her cannoli, probably the last thing she'd eat that day and it was only three o clock. Time to go home, wherever it was going to be that day. Perhaps underneath the bridge? She hadn't been there in a while; the cops shouldn't look for her. Yes, she would sleep under the bridge that night. Just as soon as she stopped by the nearest convenience store to pick up breakfast for tomorrow.

**5 hrs. Later**

Ena pulled a blanket out of her oversized backpack and wrapped it around her shoulders, over her short, black almost-trench coat. It was getting chilly—not as bad as other nights but still cold. At least the blanket would keep her warm this time. Just as she sat down, a white ghost streaked by in a blur.

Ena smiled happily; not a ghost, a cat. Aster, she called him. It means star which fit his pure white fur coat.

"Hey, Buddy." She said. "I've missed you. Shall we snuggle? It's getting cold."

As if he understood her words, he curled into her lap when she lay down to sleep.

The next morning was cold and wet from dew and Ena was quick to stuff the blanket back in her bag before setting off, Aster at her side. A half hour later had her wandering down the street underneath a warm, sun-filled sky, eating an egg sandwich she'd…uh, _acquired_ at the convenience store the previous night. On this street, there was a family having a garage sale. Ena wandered aimlessly between tables and boxes looking for anything she would be interested in buying had she had any money. As fate would have it, they did. A beautiful wooden guitar leaned against a table, a price sticker on its front. Only thirty dollars. Not much, had Ena been able to pay she would've done so without a second guess. She loved guitar, been playing since she was seven. That was before the accident that cost her father his life. Before her life fell apart.

Ena stroked the shining wood with her fingertips. It really was a beautiful guitar. She had half a mind just to take it…Why not? She deserves this guitar as much as anyone if not more. Why not take this guitar, just sitting there, waiting, wanting to be taken home?

Ena glanced up from where she stood to the people around her. No one was paying her any attention. She could just put the guitar strap around her shoulder and walk away. She scanned the tables around her and picked up a pad of paper and a pencil.

_IOU thirty dollars._ She wrote.

Again glancing up to make sure she was clear; she swung the strap over her shoulder, across her chest and walked away.

Ena was running. Again. She'd been sitting on the sidewalk curb when she heard the police sirens. Without thinking, she'd picked up Aster, placing him in her bag, stood up and ran. She just knew they were looking for her. Someone had seen her take the guitar and called the police and they had found her.

Up ahead she saw trees and she ran through them, immediately throwing herself into shadow. She ran and kept running until she found a small abandoned shed and crawled underneath. The police would never find her there.

After a half hour of hiding, Ena climbed out from her hiding place. It was very dusty under there. There'd been a short time she'd gotten so dizzy, she couldn't tell up from down, but that had settled down after just a few moments.

The second she was standing, she knew something was wrong. For starters it was night time and it'd only been eleven in the morning when she ran from the sirens. Second, she saw lights up ahead as though there was a…village or something close by and that didn't make any sense. Third, she was feeling very disoriented and dizzy as though she'd been spinning in circles for an hour. This disorienting feeling caused her memory to fog up and blur like she'd been drinking. The only clear thought she had was that she needed to find a place to eat and perhaps rest if she could. She'd already been walking for about five minutes before she even realized her feet were moving toward the lights she saw. She was already entering a bar under a sign which read The Prancing Pony. Ena knew she should recognize the name but her foggy mind wouldn't allow her to remember.

She couldn't follow what her tongue had said when the gateman asked her business. Whatever it was, he had let het in.

By now her mind was clearing up and she could tell she was in some kind of bar, a big one. Maybe she could get a meal and a place to stay.

_**Chap. 2**_

_Ena's POV_

I knew I should know where I was but it was like something didn't want me to remember. The possibility that it was_ me_ that didn't want to remember came into my mind but I quickly disregarded that thought. Living on the streets, I always wanted to know where I was, should I want to come back or tell others to avoid it.

"Good evening, sir." I addressed the man behind the bar.

"Good evening, young girl." The mad said. "Lost, are we?"

"No, sir. I just wondered where I might be able to sleep."

"There are rooms upstairs if you can pay."

"Alright, thank you." I turned away. If I wanted to be able to eat and sleep, I'd have to get money. I didn't like to steal but when living on the streets, sometimes you gotta rely on what you're good at. The first five minutes went smoothly but each pouch—yes, pouch—I'd lifted only had a few gold coins—yes, gold coins—in them. I still couldn't figure out where I was so I had no idea how much I'd have to pay to eat. Hopefully just a few more coins would do it. There was a man wandering, searchingly about the room. He seemed distracted. I labeled him easy prey. Another lesson to remember when living on the streets is learn to size up your target, but never under any circumstances should you underestimate them. You just might well get yourself in trouble.

This is where I misjudged my target. Distracted is good, less chance he'll notice you. Somewhat ratty could either mean he's tired and slow, another good thing should you be looking to steal, or ratty could mean he's homeless too and you only want to steal from a fellow street person when you're really, truly desperate. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't like to steal but these are things you should now should you find yourself in the position that you need to steal. Sadly, this man wasn't as slow as he looked though no doubt he wanted to look as out of the way as possible. He wanted to be left alone but I was hungry.

I snuck up to him, sticking the entire time to the shadows and staying low. So far so good, he didn't even glance in my direction. I'd had my fingers around the pouch at his hip when he saw me. He looked down, I looked up, our eyes met and I bolted. Or rather, I tried. I'd snatched the pouch off his belt and ran, dodging between bodies but I only made it a couple of yards when he caught me. I hand clamped firmly around my wrist and pulled me back with such force I thought my arm would pop out of its socket. Thank God it didn't. That would have been very bad, not to mention painful.

"I'll teach you to try and steal from a Ranger, boy." A voice whispered from deep with the hood.

_He thinks I'm a boy?_

He dragged my across the room, up some stairs, through a door and onto a wooden floor. I landed with a solid thump, grunting on the impact. I rolled over onto my butt and stood up in the same movement. Without so much as pausing, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a knife. I flipped it open and crouched holding out both hands, one to stab, one to block.

"You don't want to do that, laddy." A gruff voice behind me said.

_Why does everyone think I'm a boy?_

That's when I remembered I wrapped me chest two mornings and wore guy skinny jeans to avoid unwanted attention. And the fact that my hood was up, hiding my features certainly helped in that regard. The question was, did I want the people in this room to think I was a boy too?

And that's about the time I realized I wasn't alone in with the man I had tried to steal from. There was someone else with him. But I couldn't turn around to see who it was, that would put my guard down. The man before me grinned and a sense of familiarity filled my mind even though I was certain I'd never spoken to him in my life. He took a step forward, making a move for my knife hand and I deflected it. I spun around aiming a kick at his chest and he blocked it with his arm. During that split second my back was turned from him, I'd noticed once again that there were more people in the room. Three men, one short with a beard—he looked like a dwarf—, one tall with a very short beard, really more whiskers than anything, and someone else with his hood up. I was alone in a room with four other men…Needless to say; I wasn't exactly comfortable in this situation. Yeah, being homeless and all, I'd lived with men before but always with at least one woman nearby. And I always knew the men I shared a home with. Most of them were friends of my dad.

The man aimed a fist at my head and I blocked it.

"Good." He said appraisingly. No doubt a distraction from the presence I felt behind me. I ducked out from underneath his open arms and stepped away but the second I was clear something hit the backs of my legs, knocking them out from under me and I was once again on the floor, flat on my back.

"Never mess with a Ranger." A voice, the same gruff voice as earlier said. "I believe he warned you before, did he not?"

I coughed trying to get air into my shocked lungs. I'd had the wind knocked out of me and boy did it hurt. None of the men came near me while I struggled to take slow breaths through my nose and I couldn't have been more grateful. Once I could finally breathe again, I sat up slowly and looked at the strangers who seemed intent on keeping me captive. That's about the time I realized where I was.

"Wait a second." I muttered to myself. And then a little louder, so they could just hear me, "The Prancing Pony, a Ranger and three friends…a dwarf…Ah, s**t, I'm in Middle Earth aren't I?"

_**Chap. 3**_

"Aye, where else would you be?" the dwarf, Gimli, I recalled, seemed to like to talk a lot.

"Not here."

"Then where?" Borimir asked.

Before I could answer, Aragorn pulled me to my feet and pulled my backpack off my shoulders and tossed it across the room along with my guitar. I'd have to check and make sure it wasn't broken.

What the—" I said when he dragged me to the wall and slapped handcuffs around my right wrist and the other cuff to a hook in the wall. Not like Captain Hook's hook, but a full circle, closed hook. No way of getting out.

"Hey!" I exclaimed pulling at the chain. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Well we can't risk you escaping." He relied calmly.

"Escaping? What am I a prisoner now?"

"Essentially, yes."

"'_Essentially.'"_ I repeated sardonically under my breath.

"Never mess with a ranger." Gimli repeated.

"Can it, shorty." I snapped. He bristled.

"I'll have you know I'm tall for a dwarf."

"Short according to human standards." I retorted. He seemed about to reply when Legolas—or at least I assumed it was Legolas, as he was the only one in the fellowship I had yet to meet, but I couldn't be sure with his face hidden by that hood. I sounded like him that's for sure—interrupted.

"Perhaps you should save your sharp tongue for another time." He said calmly. "Sharp tongue"? I hadn't even gotten started! And I was about to say so but I think Aragorn saw me because he cut me off before I could begin.

"Easy, boy." He said.

_Oh my God, I'm not a boy!_ _I don't even sound like one! Do I?_

"Why don't you let me see the face of the one who tried to steal from me?" he continued. "I'd like to get to know you since we're going to be spending an awfully long time together."

"Uh…" It wasn't the fact that any second they would know I was a girl that bothered me, but the fact that I didn't exactly know what he meant by the, 'we're going to be spending an awfully long time together'. "What do you mean by spending time with you?" He wasn't the kind of guy who would…er, _hurt_ someone for trying to steal from them…was he? I never got that impression at all. Not in the least.

"You're coming with us of course." He said.

"Oh. Why?"

"I don't appreciate being stolen from."

"Oh come on, I just wanted to eat. I don't even know where I am."

"Not the best defense, you just said you were in Middle Earth in the Prancing Pony." Borimir said.

"But I don't know how I _got _here." And that's when another thought occurred to me. It really doesn't have anything to do with what we were talking about but…"Why do have hand cuffs in your bag? Do always have a spare pair of chains to hold people down with you?"

"No need to be nasty, boy."

_Again with the 'boy'._

"Let me see your face."

Apparently he didn't appreciate my hesitation because when I made no move to pull down my hood, Borimir huffed and strode forward.

"We haven't got time for this." He said just before pulling down my hood, revealing my very feminine features and long silky, brown hair.

"You're a…girl." He stuttered.

"Yeah, glad you noticed."

"Well _my lady, _you will be accompanying us on our journey to Rivendell. Perhaps the elves will be able to teach you some courtesy." Aragorn walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm still wondering about the handcuffs!" I yelled at his retreating footsteps.

"Never mess with a ranger." Gimli repeated for the third time.

I could've killed him.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chap. 4**_

Well I won't get into detail about the swamps other than it wasn't very easy walking without falling while my hands were cuffed. So to take up the missing space, I'll tell you what happened during the wait for the hobbits.

Aragorn was gone for about twenty minutes while I and the rest of the fellowship waited in silence. I was still standing, they were sitting. I, of course was trying to think of a way out of my situation. This led to the thought that I really had to get home to visit my mother's grave. On the days I do this, I visit her friend, Jess and we have lunch. She offers me a room, I turn it down (there really isn't room for me), she asks why, I try my best to explain without insulting her, we hug, I leave, the end. During these visits she sometimes gives my cat food to give to Aster and that made me think of how he wouldn't see me for weeks if not longer and that's how I remembered Aster was in my bag. How long had he been in there? Why hadn't he moved? Was he hungry? He couldn't possibly be asleep, could he? Maybe he was dead—Good Lord, I hoped not!

I cleared my throat.

"Hey." I said to no one in particular. "Hey, could you open my bag?"

"Why?" Gimli asked suspiciously.

"Just…could you please just open it?"

"Don't open it!" Borimir exclaimed. "She's probably a witch!"

For some reason I found this absurdly funny and I busted out laughing. Apparently Legolas found it just as ridiculous as I did because he actually said, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not a witch." I said around a mouthful of giggles. "There's something in my bag that," needs to get out? Needs to breathe? I need to check to see if it's still alive? "…I need."

"What is it?" Borimir asked suspiciously.

"…A cat."

"Don't get snippy with me, girl. You aren't in a position to be making sarcastic remarks like that." But he got up to open my bag anyway. Oh yes, when in doubt, tell the truth.

B—I'll just call him B—slowly unzipped my backpack, clearly expecting, or at least half expecting something to jump out. But Gimli, who was sitting just two feet away, was _not_ expecting this in the least. No, rather, he was probably expecting girl clothes and…other things, the perverted dwarf, to fall out. This is why, when Aster bolted out of bag and lodged his claws in the dwarf's beard, who screamed in surprise and proceeded to do an odd sort of dance to dislodge the cat from his pride and joy, I laughed, laughed so hard I was on my knees with my arms wrapped around my stomach. Now, you're probably thinking that this isn't very funny, which is why I'm going to say, you had to be there to get the full effect of this particular…situation. In the same moment Aster got out of the bag and through himself at Gimli, B took out his sword, shouting that they were all doomed and that I must've been working with Sauron, or some crap like that. This was about the time mine and Legolas' gaze met, we rolled our eyes in sync and he sighed, standing up and went over to Gimli to get my cat out of his facial hair—or what was left of it, at least.

Legolas took Aster in his arms and stroked his back, murmuring soft words in his ear. Aster immediately calmed down and began to purr.

"Aster." I called. His ears perked up slightly and he looked at me. After a few more seconds of cuddles from his now favorite elf, probably deciding whether or not I was worth giving up free cuddles, he jumped to the floor and came over to me, his favorite human. And for all the people who read the books you'll know exactly what happened with the hobbits during this little entertainment.

The innkeeper sets the hobbits up in their room. After dinner, Frodo, Sam, and Pippin go into the main drinking hall while Merry rests in the room. The hobbits quickly become the center of attention in the hall, as the Bree folk rarely get news or travelers from Hobbiton anymore. Frodo worries about some suspicious-looking characters watching the hobbits from dark corners of the room.

Butterbur points out to Frodo a particularly weather-beaten individual called Strider. The innkeeper says that Strider is a Ranger, a wanderer among the northern lands. Strider makes some pointed comments, and Frodo begins to wonder how much the man knows. Frodo suddenly notices that Pippin, who has had too much beer, is telling the crowd about Bilbo's birthday party—and getting very close to telling the part about the Ring.

To distract the audience from Pippin, Frodo gets up on a table and sings a rollicking song. His ruse works, but as he sings a second time, he falls off the table and accidentally slips the Ring on his finger. The crowd is shocked to see Frodo vanish, and everyone suddenly becomes quiet and suspicious. Frodo slips into the corner and reappears, where Strider, addressing Frodo by his real name and implying that he knows about the Ring, asks to see Frodo later. The people in the hall are not convinced when Frodo steps out of the corner and claims to have simply rolled over there as he fell. They all return to their rooms, and rumors fly. That's about the time Aragorn followed the hobbits to their room and implored them to follow him to _his_ room—creepy, I know—and suddenly the room was full and I was still the only girl in a room full of strange men.

Just then, Butterbur knocks and enters. He long-windedly explains to Frodo that he has a letter to Frodo from Gandalf. The letter was supposed to be delivered three months ago, but Butterbur forgot it, and only remembered it when Frodo showed up.

Reading the letter, the hobbits are frightened to learn that Gandalf had sensed imminent danger and wanted them to leave Hobbiton by the end of July, two months before they actually left. The wizard writes that he would catch up if he could, but that they should make for Rivendell as quickly as possible. Finally, Gandalf writes that Strider—whose real name is Aragorn—is a friend who can help them. The wizard quotes a few lines of an ancient poem that is somehow related to Aragorn. Sam is still somewhat dubious, but Strider soon convinces Sam by saying that he already could easily have killed them and taken the Ring had he wanted to. The hobbits agree to take Strider on as their guide.

Merry finally returns, bursting with the news that he has seen a Black Rider while out on a walk. Strider immediately decides that the hobbits must not spend the night in their room. They arrange pillows under their blankets to make it look like they are sleeping in their beds—an attempt to deceive anyone who tries to kill them in the night. The hobbits roll out their blankets in the parlor and go to sleep as Strider keeps watch.

Yeah, that about sums it up.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chap. 5**_

_Scene summary, Ena's POV:_

Aragorn said that a great watchtower once stood on Weathertop, built by the Men of Westernesse. Now only its ruins remain. After another day, we arrived at Weathertop. We found signs of a camp, as well as a rock with an Elven rune symbol carved into it. Both signs lead the Fellowship to suspect that Gandalf passed through the camp recently, in great haste. Aragorn said Gandalf may have been attacked while he was there, for which I muttered, "He has a mind like a steel trap—always closed."

"I'd like to see you track the way he does." Frodo said. "Show respect."

"I don't respect anyone who puts me in chains."

The group rested—yes, including me— in a hollow on the side of the hill, and Sam lit a fire. Frodo suddenly thought he sensed five black specks moving on the road far below—the Black Riders. Aragorn decided everyone should stay where they were, as trying to move would only make us more vulnerable. To keep up our spirits, Aragorn told old legends and sang a song of Lúthien Tinúviel, the most beautiful Elven princess, who fell in love with a Man and chose mortality so that she could join him in death.

Suddenly, Sam, who had wandered away, ran back from the edge of the dell and said he felt a strange dread. Everyone, once again including me, still handcuffed, mind you, gathered around the fire, facing outward, and watched as several dark shapes came over the lip of the hill. Merry and Pippin threw themselves to the ground in panic, and Sam shrank to Frodo's side. Everyone else pulled out a weapon. I reached for my knife and then remembered I'd dropped it when Gimli tripped me at the Prancing Pony and Aragorn had kept with him. Defenseless, I stayed as close to anyone with a weapon as possible. Frodo suddenly put the ring on and disappeared. He cried out the Elven names Elbereth and Gilthoniel and stabbed at the feet of the Black Riders. Aragorn ran over to help with a blazing log in each hand. When Frodo became visible again, he passed out. Everyone else was spread out, so I hid behind a rather large stone. Something fell out of my back pocket and I remembered I'd put my lock pick in there two nights previous.

_Seriously, why couldn't I remember that before?_

I picked the locks on my handcuffs and peeked out from behind my hiding place. Legolas had dropped his bow and was now fighting with a sword. A quick scan along the ground and I found his bow lying about ten feet away. I crawled over to it quickly and picked up the nearest arrow and stuck the tip into the fire. I'd used crossbows before but never a bow and arrow. I wondered how different they were from each other and almost considered just stabbing one of the riders with the lit arrow but just as soon decided against it. I strung the arrow and lifted the bow, aiming it at what I assumed was the lead Rider. The arrow whizzed through the air and hit my target through what would be his neck. It and the other Rider which Aragorn had lit up screeched and ran away and the rest followed suit.

Once everyone calmed down enough, we all drifted back toward our circle around the fire. I numbly handed the bow back to Legolas who nodded his thanks and everyone sat. Well, Borimir carried Frodo who was still unconscious. When he finally came to, Aragorn examined his shoulder and explained that it wasn't Frodo's sword that had hurt the Riders but he Elven words he shouted just before attacking. Why he shouted, I have no idea. After thoroughly examining Frodo's shoulder, Aragorn pulled Legolas and Sam to the side and began whispering to them frantically. He told him that the wound would soon have an evil power over Frodo, and may well be deadly. He went down the hill and returned carrying leaves of _athelas,_ a plant with healing power. He used the leaves to tend to Frodo's wound, which had begun to spread a cold numbness through the hobbit's side.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chap. 6**_

When day finally cam—and believe me, it felt like forever—Aragorn, with the help of Borimir and Legolas, led the hobbits down from Weathertop and across the road. Suddenly there were two shrill cries from far off and everyone scrambled along in the forest to the south of the road. The next several days were difficult going what with Frodo getting weaker all the time. Legolas found a beryl, a pale green elf-stone, in the path; it appeared to have been left for them, and Aragorn considered it a good sign. A few days later, we stumbled across the three trolls that turned to stone on Bilbo's journey many years ago. The reminder of Bilbo's adventure cheered up the hobbits—and even me a little.

For some reason we had to return to the road to make the last leg of the journey to Rivendell.

"Do you hear hooves?" I asked, knowing they would any second. They all stopped to listen and were alarmed to realize I was right.

They all hid, B dragging me with them as I hadn't moved, knowing who it was and all, but the rider turned out to be not a Black Rider but an Elf-lord, Glorfindel, a friend of Strider who lives in Rivendell and was sent out several days ago to help them. I stood by awkwardly as they put Frodo on Glorfindel's white horse and told him to ride ahead (Glorfindel hadn't noticed me yet) The hobbit was reluctant at first to abandon his friends, but Glorfindel reminded Frodo that it was he, not the others, whom the Black Riders were after.

After Frodo rode off, our new friend turned to say something to the rest of the fellowship and that's when he noticed me.

"Who are you?" rather rude and to-the-point for a "courteous elf." "You didn't leave the Shire with the hobbits and you weren't with anyone else of the group when they met together to go to the Prancing Pony."

"You're right." I said happily. "I love it when people tell me something I _already know_."

"Who are you?" he repeated.

"My name is Ena. I'm from a different world, nice to meet you." I held out a hand. The elf narrowed his eyes but he took my hand anyway.

"If this is what the Valar wills, so be it."

"Well I don't know about _the Valar_ but I'm almost certain Lady Fate had a say in it, the b***h."

Suddenly dizzy, I swayed and had to put a hand against a tree for support. I hadn't eaten much over the last two weeks, less than anyone else in the group in fact, and it was taking its toll. Glorfindel reached out a hand to steady me, concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked. I guess people can ask stupid questions anywhere. Of course I would say I was alright, just dizzy, but Aragorn spoke up, placing a hand on my shoulder before I could speak.

"She hasn't been eating much. Everyone in the party has been eating more than her."

"I didn't want to overstay your 'kind welcome'." Yes, I did put in just a bit of sarcasm there but it was true. I didn't know how much a prisoner—that's basically what I was—was allowed to eat in a group like this.

"You have to eat more, keep your strength up." Glorfindel said. I wondered if he noticed Aragorn's change in mood when he realized he was the reason I hadn't been eating. Glorfindel pulled lembas bread out of a bag and handed it to me. I took it tentatively and took a tiny bite. He smiled and turned away.

The party walked on through the night and rested only a few hours before heading out again at dawn. After another hard day's march, we stopped again. Glorfindel, Legolas and Strider, despite their desire to push on, were forced to stop, as the hobbits were exhausted. Don't get me wrong, I was tired too and I'm sure B was too but we hid it better and we could've gone a bit longer if necessary.

The next afternoon, they approached the Ford of the Bruinen River, beyond which is Rivendell. As we exited the forest just a mile before the Ford, Glorfindel suddenly heard the sound of the Black Riders behind us. He cried to Frodo to run for the Ford. I didn't see what happened next but I knew. Glorfindel's horse, still bearing Frodo, sprinted ahead. Suddenly, four Riders, who had been waiting in ambush, leapt out from the trees ahead to intercept Frodo before he could reach the Ford. Glorfindel's horse carried Frodo across the river just in time, but there the hobbit could only wait helplessly on the opposite bank.

The Black Riders began to cross the river, but their horses seemed reluctant. I knew what was coming and I really wished I could see it. Frodo called out to them to return to Mordor, the land of Sauron, but the Riders only laughed at him and said they would take him back with them. Then, just as three of the Riders approached the other bank, a rush of whitewater filled the Bruinen and rose up, overwhelming the three in its cascading waves. As Frodo slipped into unconsciousness, he saw the other black horses madly carrying their Riders into the rapids, where they were swept away.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chap. 7**_

Things after that were…confusing. Several elves rushed out to welcome the fellowship, they were very excited to see them all alive and (for the most part) well. Merry, Sam and Pippin immediately asked how Frodo was doing and Legolas went off to do whatever it is elves do after near-death experiences while Aragorn stayed to talk to those who came to welcome us—I mean them and answer any questions they had. I just sort of stood there, off to the side near the trees growing near a small ledge. From a few feet away it looked like a cliff but really it was just a few feet to fall, not to say that it wouldn't hurt should you fall, it probably would but it wasn't nearly as big as it looked from a distance. I mention this because when I finally was noticed, I was barraged with endless questions; who was I, how did I get here, friend or foe (they may as well have asked my birthday at this point) and I guess my brain decided I'd had enough because I got really dizzy again. I hid it for as long as possible though, I wanted to get through inquisition without passing out.

There was an elf there—I mean, of course there was an elf, there was a huge _crowd_ of elves all around me, but there was a _particular_ elf that caught my attention. He was young (by elves standards at least), I could tell by his eyes; bright, curious, not the least bit suspicious. And, of course, he was _very_ handsome. But there was a boyish sort of look in his features, another indication that he was young. His name was Elinoic Undómiel. He was part of the reason I fought off the dizziness so hard. He was my first crush from a different world.

After a while some of the elves began to lose interest in me. Some of them were talking about me right in front of me.

_So much for the courtesy of the elves. _

The rest, once over their suspicions offered me a place to rest but I couldn't answer them; I was too dizzy. As if from a distance, I heard Aragorn call my name but I knew he was just a few feet away from me. I hadn't seen him come up. Where had he come from?

_He must move very fast._

"You know, I think I'm going to pass out." My vision began to blur, the edges coloring and stretching strangely. "Yeah, I'm going pass out."

And pass out it did, but I could still hear the shocked exclamations when I fell. I felt a strange sort of falling sensation, like I was rolling but it was over after a few seconds. Someone was pressing two fingers to my neck, another hand was on my forehead.

"Is she alright?" a voice asked and I was shocked and a little flattered to realize it was Elinoic. He didn't have to waste his time on me but I was sort of glad he was.

"She will be once we get some food in her." Aragorn answered. How were they planning to feed me when I was unconscious? I could feel myself sliding deeper into the protective corners of my mind. I felt myself being lifted into someone's arms.

"By the Valar, she's thin." was the last thing I heard Elinoic say before the blanket of my mind covered me completely.


	6. Chapter 6

this is where things get interesting:)

_**Chap. 8**_

My first thought when I woke up was that it _really_ hoped my clothes were still where they belonged; _on me._ I never understood why, in movies whenever someone falls unconscious, the person or people who help them remove their clothes. It always freaked me out a little and it's just one of the reasons I always hoped to never pass out in a situation like the one I was in—being stuck someplace I wasn't supposed to be, that is.

I heard movement close by so I knew someone was with me, what I didn't know was who it was. Being subtle, I moved my hand beneath the blanket and felt the fabric of the pants and was relived to realize they were denim; mine. Something shattered and I jumped, looking over to where the noise came from.

"Sorry." A voice said. I looked up and saw Elinoic standing there holding a tray. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." I said pushing myself up only to gasp when a sharp pain shot from my wrist up my arm and through my hand.

"Try not to move your wrist too much." He said rushing to my side. "It's broken."

"Yeah, no kidding." I said, slowly maneuvering my injured wrist to rest in my lap. "Oh, and thank you for, uh…letting me keep my clothes."

"I figured you would be more comfortable to wake up in something familiar."

"Glad you noticed…So how did I break my wrist?"

"When you swooned, you rolled down the ledge."

I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up through my lips.

_Swooned?_

"Do I amuse you?" Elinoic asked confusedly.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "No one says 'swoon' anymore! Not where I'm from anyway."

"Why not?"

"It's…old fashioned, that's all."

"Ah." As if he understood, which I doubt he did, not completely at least.

Just then Merry and Pippin rushed into the room.

"You're awake!" Pippin exclaimed. They rushed over to the bed and jumped on top. Why were they so excited? It's not like they knew my very well, you think they'd be visiting Frodo. This thought bugged me to no end because it made me think that I somehow turned into Frodo, which didn't make any sense…Did it? Good Lord, I seriously hoped not! I found myself thinking that more and more often in this world.

"Ow!" I yelled when Merry's knee hit my wrist. I pressed it to my chest.

"Sorry!" he apologized. "We're just glad to see you're okay."

I was laughing. I don't know why, but I couldn't stop laughing. It happens every time I'm seriously hurt. I guess that's just how I deal with pain.

"_Are _you okay?" Pippin asked. "Did they give sedatives for the pain or something?"

"Or something." I laughed. "My arm hurts so_ bad._"

"Then why are you laughing?"

"I don't know!" I laughed even harder. "That's just…*laughing* what I *laughing* what I do when I'm in pain." Still laughing.

"Oh."

"I can't _believe_ I broke my wrist. Leave it to me to do something so clumsy and stupid and, well, cliché!"

"Cliché?" Pippin asked.

"It's French for an expression, idea, or element of an artistic work which has been overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect."

"Well then I guess it is a bit of a 'cliché' then." Elinoic said with a grin.

"Yeah." I said smiling. "So, how's Frodo."

"Still asleep." Merry said.

"Oh…how long was I asleep for?"

"Less than a day." Elinoic said. "About twelve hours."

"You sleep with your eyes open." Pippin said. "I mean, your eyes were closed when you passed out but after a while they opened."

"Not surprising." Elinoic said. "She _is_ an elleth."

I blinked. "A what?"

If I remembered right, an elleth is a female elf, but I wasn't an elf.

"An elleth." Elinoic said. "You didn't know?"

"No, because I'm not an elleth."

"If you weren't before, you are now."

"I am?"

"How else to explain your silver hair and pointed ears?"

"My what?" I threw the blankets off and ran to the mirror hanging on the wall across the room. It was true, my side bangs were indeed silver and my ears pointed.

"Dude." I exclaimed, turning to look at my little audience. "I look awesome! My hair's never been silver before! I love it, it looks so cute!"

"You weren't an elleth before?" Elinoic asked.

"No. Why would I be now?"

"You're from a different world. Maybe an elf is what you would have been if you were born here."

I pulled a thoughtful look and bounced my head from side to side thoughtfully.

"That makes sense." I decided.

"I should go." Elinoic said picking up the medicine tray. "I'll see you later. And congratulations." He said closing the door.

"Thank you." I said smiling. "Wait…congratulations for what?" I ran to the door and threw it open. "For what?!" I yelled. "Congratulations for what?!" he didn't answer, probably didn't hear me. I turned back to Merry and Pippin. "Congratulations for what?" I asked them.

"On your pregnancy, I'd imagine." Gandalf said, walking into the room.

_Where did he come from? Whatever. Bigger matters at hand._

"On my what?!"

The end. (of the chapter)


	7. Chapter 7

**musiciskey28****: ** OMG thank you so much for the comment! And btw, you think the pregnancy is surprise? Wait till the next chapter. I really hope you don't think it's too cliché. Plz continue reading & reviewing

**CaribbeanTrinidadian****: **thank you so much for the review, I'm glad you're enjoying the story and no she's not the Virgin Mary lol

Your guys' comments really made my day

_**Chap. 9**_

"On my what?!"

"The pregnancy." Gandalf repeated. "You didn't know?"

"No because I'm not pregnant! I'm a virgin, for crying out loud!"

He gave me a look. _The_ look; the look that says, "I know you're lying but I won't argue."

"I'm not!" I defended myself again. "Good Lord, you people!"

I stormed out of the room—not the best way to convince people you're telling them the truth. And of course, the hallway wasn't empty; I ran right into Legolas and Aragorn.

"Ena, how are you fairing?" Aragorn asked.

"Just peachy." I said, barely pausing to look at them.

_Pregnant?! Really?! I'm not pregnant, it's just not possible, I'm still a virgin!_

So what the h*** was going on?

_**Later on that day:**_

I was in Lord Elrond's office. I'd stopped to talk to him, not knowing what else to do and asked how Frodo was doing.

"He'll be fine in a few days." He told me. "There was a sliver from the blade, it was moving toward his heart. Had it not been removed, he would have become a wraith."

"And he would've been lost to us, had it not been for your amazing healing skills." Yeah, I was feeling guilty for how I reacted earlier, so I was flattering the king of Rivendell. Not that he didn't deserve it, he's brilliant. But I was hoping being really nice would make me feel less guilty for my earlier behavior. Then I thought of what Gandalf told me and the look he gave me when I'd tried to tell him the truth and got angry all over again.

"You're too kind." Elrond said with a smile.

"No, sometimes I can be rather rude."

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in." Elrond said. Four elves, three males, one female walked into the room. I moved to the side, not really sure if I should go or not and apparently I was welcome because I was soon involved the conversation. We talked for a few minutes about nothing of importance; the weather, Frodo's health—not that that's not important—and things like that. Then one of the male elves tilted his head and said, "Shh."

Everyone was quiet, not sure what was happening when he suddenly bent at the waist to his right and walked slowly toward me. Needless to say, I was a little freaked out. He stopped with his head in front of my chest and I froze, not really sure what to do. Finally, he straightened up.

"Are you with child?" he said. "Congratulations."

"No, I'm not with child." I groaned.

"Well it's either that or you have two hearts." He said. And completely out of ideas, I lied.

"Of course I have two hearts." I said. "Don't people here have two hearts too?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, I'm not pregnant."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chap. 10**_

And with that, I left the room. If someone asked about my 'two hearts' I was going to say I was a Time Lord—Time Lady, whatever a girl Time Lord is called. Very Doctor Who.

That's about the time I realized everyone thought I had two hearts. Why would they think that?

_Well obviously you've got to have two hearts then._ My mind whispered. Yeah, I can be pretty slow sometimes. _Yes you can._

_Shut up!_

_No._

Mental fights with oneself are never a good sign.

_No, they're not._

_Oh my God, shut up!_

Yeah, I've lost it.

_Yeah, you have._

I slapped myself. Yeah, that's right, clear across the face. Not once, but twice, one with each hand, right across the face. That's when Elinoic came in.

"Um." He said echoing my thoughts to perfection. "I'm going to dinner with friends. Would you like to join us?"

"Sure, I could use a bit of sanity right now."

_**2 or 43 days later (not sure, lost count):**_

Today was the day Frodo was to wake up. Lord Elrond planned a feast for the Fellowship and…other people, I don't really know who else. Everyone was dressing up nice and seeing that I didn't have any nice clothes with me, Arwen told me that someone would choose something for me. I couldn't wait to see what I was to wear.

_~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~_

I gaped at the clothes laid out for me; a dress. Of course a dress. And heels. Really, who was in charge of picking my clothes? In the days that I'd been in Rivendell did no one notice how, once they were clean again I'd stuck with my own clothes; pants and shirts? For the love of Christ, even people I'd never talked to noticed that! So why, in the name of all that is holy did the elf who chose my clothes choose a dress and heels?! A dress and fancy flats I could deal with, but heels?! _Seriously?!_

Whatever. I put the dress on as quickly as possible, pulling it over my head and smoothing out any wrinkles and then I ran over to the full length mirror leaning against the wall to inspect the chaos. Very much to my surprise, I looked rather good. Now there was the issue with my hair; always hanging down in lightly wavy brown tresses or pulled back into a ponytail or a braid. There wasn't much I could do with my now silver bangs, always brushed to the side of my face. My now ever so slightly changed face. Any leftover baby fat was gone, my face was narrower, my features sharper. I always liked the baby fat; friends told me it made me look cute. Now I looked older and foreignly beautiful. Ah well, can't control everything in life.

I glared at the heels, still sitting at the foot of my bed mockingly—really, I could swear they were laughing—and left the room without putting them on my feet. I would go without shoes that night.

At the feast everyone was talking and consulting and welcoming and dancing and eating. I scanned the room for Frodo and found him surrounded by dwarves and elves and Gandalf, probably there to make sure the hobbit wasn't overwhelmed by all the questions and stuff. I drifted about the room, occasionally stopping to converse with people, and eating anything that looked good; which was just about everything.

"Hello." Elinoic said smiling hugely.

"Hi." I said happily.

"You aren't wearing shoes." He said looking down at my feet.

"No. My, aren't you observant." I added sardonically.

"Only with very pretty girls."

I opened my mouth to reply and then shut it again. I looked away, not really sure what to do. I could _feel_ Elinoic smiling at me. I could_ feel _the satisfied, teasing grin he wore and I wanted to kill him. I tried really hard to concentrate on the singers at the front of the room. They were really good—or at least I think they were, it was hard to concentrate on what they were saying, let alone their voices when my head was stuffed with cotton.

"You like singing?" he asked me.

"Mm-hm." I murmured.

"Then you should sing."

"Mm-h—wait, what?"

Without replying, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the front of the room, me arguing the whole way.

"Lady Ena would like to song!" he announced loudly so the whole room would hear.

"Elinoic." I hissed. "I don't sing."

Yeah, I'd sung before on the streets for money and always gotten enough money to go to McDonald's or something but that was it!

"All elves sing." He whispered in my ear before leaving the stage and joining the audience; my audience.

_Okay,_ I thought. _All elves can sing…and you're an elf, so you can sing._

I don't know what possessed me to do this but I decided on a song I should've told myself I wasn't ready to sing:

_And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to  
And now the night is near  
Now I can make believe he's here_

Sometimes I walk alone at night  
When everybody else is sleeping  
I think of him and then I'm happy  
With the company I'm keeping  
The city goes to bed  
And I can live inside my head

On my own  
Pretending he's beside me  
All alone  
I walk with him till morning  
Without him  
I feel his arms around me  
And when I lose my way I close my eyes  
And he has found me

In the rain the pavement shines like silver  
All the lights are misty in the river  
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight  
And all I see is him and me forever and forever  
And I know it's only in my mind  
That I'm talking to myself and not to him  
And although I know that he is blind  
Still I say, there's a way for us

I love him  
But when the night is over  
He is gone  
The river's just a river  
Without him  
The world around me changes  
The trees are bare and everywhere  
The streets are full of strangers

I love him  
But every day I'm learning  
All my life  
I've only been pretending  
Without me  
His world would go on turning  
A world that's full of happiness  
That I have never known

I love him  
I love him  
I love him  
But only on my own

Everyone clapped. They clapped and I bowed and left the stage, trying really hard not to die. After I was done, I just sort of hid by the wall and had my own private little heart attack.

"Behold, beneath the guise, a woman." Aragorn's voice sounded to my left and I just about jumped out of my skin.

"You're too kind." I responded numbly—it was more a reaction than anything else.

"That wasn't a very cheery song."

"Like you should talk." I replied once my brain crawled back into my skull and my heart remembered it belonged in my chest—or rather, my _two_ hearts, according to everyone else. "At Weathertop, to cheer everyone up, you told a story of an elleth who basically decided to die to be with the one she loved. Now don't get me wrong, it's a great story but it's _so sad!_ How was that supposed to make everyone happy?"

"An excellent point." Gandalf said joining the conversation. "It's not a very cheery story."

Aragorn didn't reply.

"Where's your cat friend?" he asked instead.

"I don't know, he's around somewhere doing whatever he pleases."

"Which would be following me around." Pippin said walking up to us. As if on cue, Aster came up behind him and moved about his ankles, purring the whole while. "It's evil, this cat."

"No he's not; he's just an attention hog."

As if he understood me, Aster looked up and then walked away.

"Where's he going?" Pippin asked.

"I dunno. Probably went to get attention elsewhere."

Five minutes later exactly, a yell came from one of the food tables. Everyone was rushing over to see what the commotion was, including me. And I really wish I had chosen to ignore it because what happened next was something I tend to avoid. Aster was on the table eating fish, the stupid cat. People were yelling, people were laughing, and people were staring. And I was right in the middle. One man was trying to shoo Aster off the table but was blatantly ignored. Instead, the cat turned to the nearest hobbit, Pippin of course, and began playing with his ear. He pulled away, probably not wanting to get any of the blame that was directed at me. A particularly upset Gandalf tried to use magic to blow Aster off the table. I of course couldn't let him do it, so I stepped in front of his spell as it flew toward my cat. Very Mary-Sue, I know. What happened next was…interesting: the magic seemed to move in slow motion when I stepped in front of it, I was expecting to be blown right over the table, but instead the magic seemed to come into me.

I gasped and stumbled back. Everyone was looking at me.

My nose itched. And then I sneezed, sneezed really hard and loud. And much to my surprise blew the wizard away, right off his feet. There were shouts of surprise and anger and I stood shocked beyond all recall. I half expected someone to pull a weapon on me and I really wished I had paid more attention to the sword lessons Elinoic had given me (will be mentioned in later chapters if you're interested).

"I say!" Gandalf exclaimed sitting up quickly. "What on Earth was that?!"

"Uh—I don't—I—sorry." I stammered out a reply.

"Well I do!" the wizard said standing up. "Magic. Untaimed magic!"

Now that was a surprise. I didn't have magic.

_You obviously do._

Yeah, I guess I do.

Gandalf stumbled back and Frodo and several elves rushed forward to provide assistance. I stepped forward as well, not knowing what to do.

"I think you should go," A voice whispered in my ear and I turned to see Arwen standing next to me.

"Is he alright?" I asked softly.

"He should be, we just need to make sure he does not have a concussion."

"Will you let me know?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." And then I left the feast.

"Ena!"

I turned to see Elinoic jogging after me. Is it selfish that I was glad he left the feast to come after me?

"Where are you going?" he asked once he caught up with me.

"Nowhere, I just need a little space. Or I'm giving Gandalf space…I don't know."

He nodded understandingly and then changed the subject.

"So you have magic."

"Yeah…weird."

He just shrugged.

"Why don't you come back to the party?"

"I don't know. Am I welcome?"

"Of course you are welcome, why would you not be welcome?"

"Well let's see, my cat ate the fish that was meant for everyone, and when Gandalf tried to get rid of him, I jumped in front of his spell like some sort of Mary-Sue and then somehow absorbed the magic and sneezed it out, causing Gandalf to fly across the room. Need I continue?"

"No, but I think Gandalf overreacted."

Was I surprised? Oh yes.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"He must really love fish." I said.

"Come." Elinoic said, holding out a hand. "Go get your guitar and play us another song. Play all night long; sweep your audience away with beautiful music that makes the trees sigh."

I laughed; he was so dramatic. But I took his hand and we went back to my room to get my guitar and then we went back to the feast.


	9. Chapter 10

_**Chap. 11**_

(Yeah, I know the ending to the previous chapter was I bit cheesy, but admit it, it was sweet and you like Elinoic )

Well, I _was_ welcome at the feast. The problem was they wanted to torture me—I guess everyone likes Gandalf just that much. Their torture of choice was endless insistence that I sing for them again and again and again. Elinoic insisted that they all just liked me a lot and wanted to tease me a bit but I was convinced otherwise. Every time I sat down to eat or rest, someone would come up to me, insisting that I play another song. I was really beginning to hate my stay here, I was so tired. And annoyed. Really I just wanted to make sure Gandalf was alright and find out what I did exactly. The hardest part was holding the guitar with a still healing wrist. But, hey, it could've been worse.

_My hands are searching for you  
My arms are outstretched towards you  
I feel you on my fingertips  
My tongue dances behind my lips for you_

This fire rising through my being  
Burning, I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive  
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me  
And you whisper you love me  
And I begin to fade  
Into our secret place

The music makes me sway  
The angels singing say we are alone with you  
I am alone and they are too with you

I'm alive  
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healing

And so I cry  
The light is white  
And I see you

I'm alive  
I'm alive  
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healing

Take my hand, I give it to you  
Now you owe me, all I am  
You said you would never leave me  
I believe you, I believe

I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healed

I don't think I could ever have stage fright again, not after this.

"Another." Elinoic said smiling, taking my hand dramatically.

"No." I groaned. "I'm tired; I want to go to bed."

"If you must." He said happily. "I hope you have sweet dreams; dreams of flying, of love, of endless fields of flowers."

"Ew, could you get any cornier?" but to be honest, I kinda liked it. "I mean, how old are you?"

"In elf years, I am about seventeen."

"How old is that in human years?"

"Old." He said with a smile.

"Hm." I replied hiding a smile. And then without thinking, I pecked him on the cheek. He looked at me amusedly and I looked back without blinking. Then I turned and walked away without looking back.

I didn't go to bed right away; instead I wandered through the trees trying to calm down enough to sleep. I was all keyed up despite the fact that I couldn't keep my eyes open. Eventually I found myself at a bridge—Aragorn and Arwen were there, talking in hushed tones. I knew the story of them of course—a very young Aragorn encountered Arwen for the first time at Rivendell, where he had been living; she had been staying with her grandmother in Lórien. He fell in love with her when he first saw her, but it was not until they met many years later in Lórien that she fell in love with him.

I stayed in the trees, a good twenty feet away but I could still hear them. Their words were full of love, of longing and they made me want to cry. Aragorn was convinced he wasn't deserving of her love and she insisted otherwise; that it was her that was undeserving of his love.

_Enough! _I wanted to yell at them. _Why can't you both see you deserve each other equally?!_

I don't know why their words affected me like that, they just sounded so sad, but so happy with each other. Unable to hear anymore, I turned and ran away on silent feet. Ran away from the Noble Maiden and the rightful king of Gondor.


	10. Chapter 12

_**Chap. 12**_

The next morning I was summoned to Elrond's office. I sat waiting in a chair, knowing this was about what happened the previous night.

Gandalf came in and looked at me with what could have been a glare but also could have been curiosity. Amusement? I really couldn't tell; maybe a mix of everything.

"How are you?" I asked uncertainly.

"Quite good, quite good." He said. "A small concussion, they said but what is life without a few minor injuries?"

"Not much of a life at all." I responded.

_I'm a despicably human being!_

_Actually, you're an elleth._

Yeah…

"Indeed." He sat looking at me, puffing from his pipe for what felt like an hour. I cleared my throat but he kept staring at me. I cleared my throat again before speaking.

"So, are you going to tell me what I did last night?"

"Magic." He said by way of answer.

"Yeah, you…said that. But _how_ did I do it? I didn't even know I had magic."

"I believe we found the answer to the mystery of your second heart." He said.

"…uh, what?"

"You don't have a second heart. What everyone was hearing was the magic inside your chest, beating like another heart."

"Um…oh. Okay, is…that normal?"

"Relatively."

"'Relatively.' That's not much comfort."

"It's common enough that we know what to do to help you. All you have to do is call the magic out and learn to use it. It happens sometimes with wizards or elves."

"Do you know why?"

"Indeed, it can happen when they experience something traumatic and sometimes it just…gets caught before they are born."

"And they need to call it out?"

"Yes, and so do you. Don't look so worried, 'tis not so difficult."

"I'm not worried."

"Good, then let us get started." He moved his chair closer to mine and put his hands up, palms forward. I put my hands up and touched them lightly to his. I was vaguely aware of Elrond standing close by, probably just in case something went wrong.

_I need you to concentrate._ The Wizard's voice sounded in my head. _Close your eyes._ I obeyed._ Now, I want you to imagine a light. Imagine a ball of light inside your chest. Good. Imagine the light beating next to your heart. It's expanding…good. Imagine the light growing; it's covered your heart, filled your chest. It's spreading up and moving through your entire body. Do you feel it? Good. Now, imagine the light melt into your bones, through you skin, let it envelope you entirely. Good. This is where things will get difficult. I need you to imagine the light explode, make it hot._

I was on fire. Everything was burning, I couldn't breathe.

_Ena! Listen to me, it's not real, the fire isn't real! It's just the magic._

Just the magic?

Instantly the fire cooled down.

_Good. That's good. You're magic is free. Are you in control?_

"I think so." I whispered.

"Good." In an instant, the force that held me in place was gone and my arms dropped to my sides. I opened my eyes. Gandalf was smiling at me and I smiled back.

"Very good."

I turned toward Elrond. Aragorn and Legolas were with him.

"When did you get there?" I asked.

"An hour ago." Aragorn said.

"An hour?" I said shocked. "How long was I here for?"

"Two and a half hours." Legolas answered.

"Two and a half…it felt like a few seconds."

"That is normal with magic." Gandalf said.

"Okay. So…can I go now? I was supposed to go the training field to practice sword fighting."

"Yes, you may go."

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

I had a different trainer that day. I scanned the field for the hobbits but didn't see them.

"Grab a sword." The elf said pointing with his weapon to the swords I was to choose from. He seemed strict. Really strict. Not good, I hated really strict teachers.

I chose one of the swords I always chose and when I turned around, the elf was staring at me—no, not staring but glaring. I ignored it and took my stance in front of him. Barely a second later, he was swinging his sword at me and the fight began. This was more difficult than usual; I hadn't had time to size him up, judge his good traits and the ones that would be his undoing. He was fast but then, all elves are. It took him longer than I expected to size me up and estimate my next moves which meant he wasn't the best judge of strategy which meant I had to change mine occasionally to keep him guessing. His movements were like some sort of foreign dance. I mean, all sword fights are like dancing but his was sort of…aggressive, animal-like, giving his moves a look of randomness.

"Having trouble?" he asked snidely.

"You kidding? I got you all figured out."

"Such arrogance." He replied in pitying tone.

"And you must be very smart. You have brains never used."

"Do not be so proud of being quick—a sharp tongue does not mean you have a keen mind."

"I know, you're living proof of that."

"And you are living proof that there are indeed greater troubles in the world."

"Keep talking, I always yawn when I'm interested in people's bulls**t."

"You are disgusting." He said stopping the fight. "You and any other…false elf." He sneered. "People like you do not deserve the magic you have."

"And who put you in charge of judging people like me?"

"It is every elf's right to judge people like you. It is beyond me why you were invited to the council meeting tomorrow."

_I'm invited? I didn't know that._

"Why do you care?"

"Because you are a lie."

He suddenly swung his sword at me and then we were fighting again. He was moving faster this time and I didn't have time to find the pattern. I wished I'd had more training or was a natural fighter. I mean, sword fighting and dagger throwing were relatively easy for me but I was no match for him. He had me backed up to a tree in less than a minute.

"You should not have come here." He whispered threateningly.

"And you should not have cornered me." Something inside me stirred and a great wind kicked up behind me and flew toward us. The elf—I hadn't asked his name, I realized—was blown backward and landed thirty feet away from me. I swayed and fell, landing on all fours. I was so dizzy; the whole forest was spinning around me, inside me head. I collapsed on my chest. I couldn't move, I was so weak, so tired. Distantly I heard shouting. A few minutes later I heard people come through the trees. A hand touched my shoulder and I tried to lift my head to see who it was.

"Do not try to move." Aragorn whispered. I tried to speak to ask him what was happening but no sound would come out. He always seemed to be there like the big brother I never had and I found comfort in that fact. I wondered if he thought of me like his sister. That would be nice.

"Where is she?" a voice was shouting and I vaguely realized it was Gandalf. And he was angry.

"Here," Aragorn called.

"Wait until I am done with that foolish girl—"

He broke off, probably saw me lying on the ground and decided to delay the execution.

"Bring her to her room, she needs to rest." He said. "I will deal with her later." That was the last thing I heard before Aragorn picked me up into his arms and for the second time since I came to Rivendell, I passed out.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chap. 13**_

_**Annoyed Guest # 1: lol, 'nough said**_

_**Annoyed Guest # 2: again, lol, your comment actually amused me because, guess what, you read all the way up to chapter 8 so it couldn't have been THAT bad and if you were paying attention, you would know I'm going by the book for the most part, Ena is NOT an expert archer, she used a crossbow before and got lucky w/ the bow, Doctor Who has nothing to do with it, it was just a little thing, and, if you keep reading, I'll get more into why Ena became an elf when she did so basically, you're stupid. Fine, you don't like it; I don't care but next time, PAY ATTENTION! And yeah, I changed the story a little, everyone does, deal with it. **_

Oh yeah, I should say, NO MORE FLAMES!

It's beyond me why I always have to wake up before I'm ready. Every morning is the same story; I wake up and my body tells me to go back to sleep. _**Why?**_ Seriously, what is the point in tormenting me every single day? I don't get it.

Eventually my ears caught up with my wandering mind and I heard voices.

_Oh good, now you've officially lost it. What little you had, that is._

I swear, my mind hates me sometimes.

I turned my head, so my already open eyes could see who was talking. I was lying on my back on top of the sheets.

"How are you feeling?" Elrond asked. Aragorn stepped forward.

_Good, considering my mouth is dry as sand, someone stuffed my head with rocks and I woke up like this in front of royalty._

"Ugh, at the moment I hate my life."

"You are not the only one." Gandalf stormed into the room.

_Feeling like crap in front two royalties and a hundred-something year old wizard._

"What were you thinking, using magic for the first time without supervision? Calling forth a wind storm is not something one does lightly!"

"Wind storm?"

"Oh, a little slow, are we?"

"Yeah, I just woke up and someone thought it would be fun to use my heads as a piñata."

Based on their confused looks, I guessed that reference was lost on them.

"Never mind." I muttered sitting up.

"That was a very dangerous, foolish thing to do." He said softly, but it wasn't without anger.

"I'm sorry." I said softly, I didn't feel like arguing.

"Oh, you're sorry? Do you have any idea what could have happened?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I don't really know what I did."

"'Tis why you need supervision before pulling something so difficult. You are a fool!"

"I'm sorry." I murmured hiding my face in my hands. I just wanted to be left alone to sleep. My mind was moving so slow, I couldn't think. "Really, I am. I was just defending myself and I just…reacted, I guess. I wasn't thinking."

"Indeed! Next time you make a wind storm, why don't you complete it with lightning and rid us of your stupidity?"

Now that touched a sore spot; my dad was electrocuted.

"That wasn't funny." I muttered into my hands.

"Indeed, I was not trying to be humorous."

"Believe me, I know. If you were trying there would be a lot of rattling inside your head and stuttering and, I imagine, a little dribble on your beard."

I heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up into the Wizard's eyes, now wide and angrier than before.

"You will show respect to Gandalf, he is one of the greatest men you will ever meet." Elrond said sternly.

"Sorry." I slumped, worn out already.

Gandalf sighed.

"Sleep." He commanded. "We will continue this later. You are no good when you can barely keep your eyes open."

"Is anyone?"

"Humph." He left the room.

"He is right." Aragorn said. "You should rest."

"Don't need to tell _me_ twice."

"Sleep well." He said leaving the room.

Needless to say, I slept great that night.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Yeah, to be honest, I'm not really sure what I did before the council meeting…I just sort of…wandered I guess. I remember eating breakfast, vaguely remember getting dressed and after that is sort of blank. Basically the whole meeting is a blank because, well, if you read the book you probably know the meeting went for about sixty pages and forty of those pages, Frodo was giving a speech. Not. Worth. It. Believe me. So basically, I was almost comatose throughout everything, right up to when Borimir began walking toward the ring, muttering about a dream he had, the dream that he followed, somehow knowing he had to go to Rivendell, about how in the dream he saw the eastern sky go dark but in the west there was a pale light, and a voice said, "Doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane has been found…Isildur's bane…" This obviously caught my attention because, if I was right, I knew what was coming next: Gandalf was going to begin speaking in the Black Speech.

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."

And even though I knew it was coming, knew what to expect, I wasn't expecting the chill, the cold dread that gripped my heart. It was horrifying, positively petrifying. I was the most scared I've ever been in my life; it was even scarier than the night my dad died. I shut my eyes. But fear wasn't working alone. It had a companion, a partner, a feeling I couldn't quite place for the first horrifying seconds: hopelessness. Doubt beyond all rhyme and reason. I felt naked and helpless and utterly alone. Instinctively, I crossed myself; a habit from before the accident that caused my father's death. It wasn't that I'd stopped believing in God, I just…didn't have the time, didn't trust in him enough to give him more than the occasional prayer every now and again.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The ring is altogether evil."

Things calmed down a bit after that. I couldn't really register what people were saying for a while, as I still felt ready to pee myself. Well, you all saw the movie; I'm sure some of you read the book, so you know what happened basically. Borimir was stubborn because he's clueless, Legolas tried to reason with him, Gimli insulted the elves for no apparent reason and then the yelling began. The whole thing went for about a minute before I finally stood up (I'm still mad at Frodo for not speaking when he should have) and yelled for everyone to shut up. Some people stopped and looked at me, mid-yell, causing the person they were arguing with to stop yelling and look where the other person was looking; right at me. Almost everything was by the book, literally up to now—why did it have to change? **(Because the author is lazy!) **

"You're all just blaming each other." I said. "What's the point? Everyone needs each other, every race so we can get through this. It's not going to happen if you keep up these prejudices."

"It's not prejudices that are the problem." Gimli scoffed. "Elves are a self-righteous and stuck up people who would rather hide away in their trees than fight."

"If something is prejudice, it should be called prejudice." I said sitting, as others had already done so. "And yeah, I've half a mind to agree with you. Elves _are_ a bit self-righteous."

"You speak as though you are not an elleth yourself. Do you deny your race so soon?" one of the elves I'd never seen before asked with an air of one who'd given up on someone a long time ago.

"No." I said. "I just don't consider myself so much better and stronger and wiser than anyone else here. And I know I'm not the only one to feel this way; that means I can still get you to listen. Yeah, elves are stuck up. So many of them put all the blame of what happened all those years ago on the race of men. Are they themselves to blame for the misery and pain? Didn't you let go? Aloud it, let it grow? If we can't restrain the beast that dwells in Mordor, in the ring, it will find its way somehow, somewhere in time."

Within Temptation—best band ever! Well, one of them.

"Someone has to destroy the ring." I said glancing at Frodo, catching his eye. "They have to be willing to do it."

"One of you must do this." Elrond said.

"…I will take it." Frodo murmured. "I will take it." He said louder. "I will take the ring to Mordor." He glanced around nervously at the people staring at him. "Though," he said. "I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins." Gandalf said placing a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "As long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn stood up.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

"And my bow."

"And my ax."

"You carry the fate of us all little one." Borimir said standing.

_No pressure._

"If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Mister Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"

Everyone turned to see Sam running to Frodo's side.

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Elrond replied amusedly.

Sam blushed slightly.

"Oi! We're coming too!" Merry and Pippin ran out form their hiding place to join their friends.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry said crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest… thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip." Merry muttered causing a few chuckles from the gathering.

Lord Elrond quirked an eyebrow in my direction.

"Ena?" he said, probably sensing my wanting to say something.

"Uh, I'd like to go too." I said standing. "It wouldn't really be fair to be sucked into a different world and not be able to have an adventure while helping someone, now would it?"

Yeah, that didn't really make any sense, but they knew what I meant.

"Ten companions." Elrond said ever the dramatic one. "So be it. You shall be The Fellowship of The Ring."

"Great." Pippin said grinning. "Where are we going?"

Oh, Pippin. Clueless, adorable Pippin.


	12. Chapter 14

_**Chap. 14**_

ElrondofImladris: yeah, I know, the chapters are out of order. I don't know how that happened. Glad you like the story though :)

ladymoonscar: next chapter up! : )

Bob d Unicorn: your review made me laugh : )

Two months were spent waiting in Rivendell for the scouts Elrond sent out. I spent my time with sword and magic training and hanging out with Elinoic, the Hobbits, and getting to know Borimir, Gimli and Legolas, as I hadn't talked to them much before. Borimir remained convinced that they could use the ring as a weapon, but he didn't push the matter much. Gimli seemed to like me a little more, probably because I agreed with his opinion about the elves in front of everyone, but I was sure to let everyone know that I don't think all elves are stuck up and that Dwarves are very thick-headed. All of them. Yeah, they listen but they are all very stubborn. Legolas was indifferent on the situation but he seemed to like me too. I think.

Before we left, Bilbo gave Frodo the Mithril shirt and the short sword, Sting, which he had used on his adventures. **(Has anyone else seen The Hobbit?) ** Frodo eagerly put the shirt on and tested the weight of the sword. He was so pleased with the gifts, he seemed to temporarily forget why they were being given to him.

Aragorn had his broken sword reforged, and he renamed it Andúril. Glad to see he isn't as wimpy as he is in the movie. The Hobbits were sure to get Bill, the pony they had bought off Bill Ferny. He looked much healthier and stronger than when I first saw him. I brought my over-sized backpack and couldn't bear to leave behind my semi-new guitar so I decided to bring that with me too. Aster obviously couldn't come, so I spent the whole morning cuddling with him, crying the whole time. We'd never been apart for more than a few days, and now I wouldn't see him for…I don't even know how long!

"I'm gonna miss you." I said softly. He looked up at my tear filled eyes. "The elves are going to take good care of you."

He rubbed his head against my hand and then ran off.

The Fellowship headed south of Rivendell along the foothills of the Misty Mountains. After walking for a day, we stopped to set up camp. I sat next to Frodo and we watched as Aragorn and Legolas had a battle of wits because Legolas had called Aragorn a scummy human—as a joke of course. In turn, Aragorn had called Legolas a prissy elf and the battle began. Occasionally someone else would throw in a jab to keep the fire going, so we were all distracted and didn't notice when Pippin stood and wandered about the campsite as though he hoped to find something interesting. As it happened, he did: my guitar.

It started off as a shuffling when he moved the bags around so he could reach it, then a clattering as stuff fell to the ground, guitar strings twanging then snapping and then a horrible cracking as the neck of my guitar snapped in half. I was up like a shot and across the campsite in just few seconds to inspect the damage.

"No, no, no, no, no no, no." I muttered as I dropped to my knees and picked up the dead guitar. I tried in vain to put it back together, muttering to myself the entire time.

"You…" I said turning to Pippin, eyes wide and accusing. "You…"

"Sorry." He said taking a step back. "It was an accident."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I was just curious." He pleaded.

"Curiosity killed the cat." I told him softly, standing up. He looked up at me as I took a step closer and then we were both running; me after him, he away from me.

"Peregrin Took, I am going to kill you!" I screamed as he ran about the campsite, trying to calm me down. Distantly, I heard people laughing and it made me angry before I imagined how we must've looked running around they were, but I didn't stop. Not until I tripped and swore in Spanish, so they wouldn't know what I was saying. The first time Gandalf heard me swear, I was reprimanded for a good twenty minutes. I stood up quickly and continued chasing Pippin until I caught him and pinned him down with his arms behind his back.

"What do you say?" I yelled even though I wasn't that angry anymore.

"I was just curious!"

"No, what do you say?!"

"I'm sorry."

"And?"

"I won't do it again!"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I let him up and when he stood, patted him on the shoulder. Then I went over to Gandalf who was holding the guitar in his hands.

"I do believe you can fix this." He said. "I am reasonably sure I taught you a spell to repair broken objects, did I not?"

"How'm I supposed to know? I never paid attention during the lessons. Just kidding." I added quickly when he looked at me in a way that said, _"Excuse me?"_ I took the instrument from his hands and sat down where I was before the whole incident.

_What was that spell again?_

I sat there for what like forever trying to remember the spell, knowing Gandalf wouldn't just give it to me. Once I thought I had it, I placed my hands over the broken neck and quietly muttered what I believed to be the fixing spell—I was right. Excitedly, I fixed the broken strings and held it up to the light for inspection.

"Done." I said happily. "All fixed."

Pippin looked up shyly form where he sat just a few feet away and nodded with a small happy smile.

"Oh, Pippin." I said happily, reaching over and giving him a playful shove. "I'm not mad at you."

His smile widened.

"What language were you speaking earlier when you tripped?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, it's Spanish."

"Could you teach me?" he asked excitedly, and who can say no to a face like his, even when they _are _older than you?

"Well I don't really know a whole lot, but I can try."

I knew what I learned in school and what I learned living on the streets; enough to get by.

The next afternoon, while Merry and Pippin were practicing sword fighting with Borimir we saw a suspicious flock of birds flying overhead, which Aragorn feared were servants of Mordor sent to spy on us. The group tried to decide how to cross the Misty Mountains, which impeded our path. We settled on the pass of Caradhras, which enables passage beside one of the range's tallest peaks. Caradhras was Aragorn's choice, although Gandalf feared the pass may be watched. The Wizard mentioned a darker and more secret path—one that Aragorn was loath to try. And so, we made our way up the snow covered mountain which would have been a lot of fun—if we don't go on for hours, knowing we could die at any given moment.

"I used to like snow." Pippin said. "Now I'm not so sure."

Thus the reason I threw a snowball in his face. I wasn't aiming for his face, I just sort of…missed his missed his chest, I guess.

"How do you like snow now?" I asked teasingly.

"Shouldn't have done that." He said making his on snowball.

I darted behind Borimir as Pippin threw his weapon. Guess who it hit. Not me.

Borimir jumped in surprise, looking first at Pippin, then me and back at Pippin before getting a strange look in his eye and making his own ammo. Oh, look at what I started.

Pretty soon the rest of the Hobbits joined into the war and Aragorn just stood and chuckled for the most part. Occasionally he would toss a snowball or give a tip to a victim of snowball pelting but mostly he just laughed. Even Legolas jumped in a couple times. Trust me, he is _very_ fast, but so am I. I hit him with snowballs plenty of times—granted, not as much as he got me, but still.

One time Pippin threw snow in my face. And, me being me, I couldn't let that one go. I caught his eyes with mine, slowly bent over, not letting go of his gaze and fashioned the perfect weapon. His eyes lingered on me the entire time, even as I drew back my arm and released. To his credit, he actually ducked. To my dismay, he probably didn't have to—I could swear it went just a bit too high and then kept going. It flew through the air right toward an unsuspecting Gandalf who, for some reason was looking the other way. Now I don't know what possessed him to do such a thing so close to a snowball fight, but that was the furthest thing from my mind as the snowball, my snowball, hit him right smack in the head, thus successfully knocking his hat to the snow covered ground.

The Wizard became rigid. Everyone had frozen and was watching him. Gandalf turned slowly to look at us; slowly enough that the Hobbits and I, every Hobbit except Pippin that is had time to dart behind the nearest tall person and hide. I was behind Aragorn, who was trying very hard not to laugh. Pippin stood still as a deer caught in the headlights and looked like he was trying to melt into the snow. Everyone stared at Gandalf as he finished turning. His eyes scanned over the group and I gasped, moving back behind Aragorn and covering my mouth to keep from giggling. Or panicking. It was kinda hard to tell which to do at the moment. A few seconds passed by—just a few seconds. Just a few seconds for Gandalf to conjure up a snowball; the biggest in the world I'm guessing. I don't really know because I didn't see it for more than a second as I looked up and it fell on my face. Like I said, I didn't really see it but I sure as h*** felt it.

I jumped up in shock, giving a yell of surprise. The snow was already slipping down my shirt.

"And that," Gandalf said, trying to sound stern, but a deaf man could hear the amusement in his voice. "Is what you get for calling me stupid."

_When did I do that? Oh yeah…_

I sputtered and shook out my hair, trying to remove the snow. Everyone was laughing. I was sure I'd laugh later but certainly not now.

_How'd he know it was me?_

As if reading my thoughts he answered, "Only an elf can throw anything thirty feet when surrounded by thigh-deep snow."

I almost asked how he knew it wasn't Legolas then, but the answer seemed just a bit too obvious to be brought into the open.

As we climbed higher, the road became a treacherous path along a cliff face. Snow began to fall. Only Legolas and I remained undeterred, for as Elves we can walk lightly over the snow, leaving hardly a footprint. The farther our group went, the heavier the snow fell. Before long, boulders started to tumble down the mountain all around us. Eventually, we were forced to turn back. The snow had built up many feet deep behind us, so the men had to burrow a way out for the Hobbits. The snow stopped soon after our retreat. As Gimli noted, evidently some force in Caradhras—the mountain has a reputation for evil—did not want us to pass.

Gandalf felt that the group's only remaining option was a path beneath the mountains, through the Mines of Moria. Many in the group trembled at the mention of Moria, which is widely reputed to be an evil place. I didn't, as I didn't know a lot about it, but still, I knew it was a bad idea. Only Gimli was eager, as Moria was once one of the greatest places in the realm of the Dwarves, and he was eager to enter Moria to look for any sign of the Dwarf-king, Balin. Aragorn made a comment, saying that Gandalf in particular should beware of Moria. He, Gandalf and I were the only ones who knew what he meant. The rest of the Company was forced to agree with Gandalf's decision to enter Moria, however, when we heard the howling of wolves nearby and realized we must move on quickly. That very night we barely staved off an assault by the wolves. Everyone in the group fought valiantly: Legolas with his bow, Gimli with his axe, Aragorn and Borimir and I with our swords, Gandalf with a spell that set the circle of trees around us on fire.

Merry and Pippin kept the wolves that attacked them at bay long enough for someone to come over and actually kill them. They each were only able to kill one or two wolves, but hey, they were big wolves. I personally didn't want to kill any, so mostly I injured them to warn them to stay away. What can I say? I like wolves.

"The Fellowship is no place for a woman if all you're going to do is give your enemies a paper cut!" Gimli exclaimed once the wolves retreated.

"Not everyone enjoys killing." I said dryly.

"You must learn to stomach it, or leave." He said.

_Leave?_

"I can't leave, it would be idiotic." I told him defensively. "And what does me being a girl have to do with it?"

"Everything! A woman belongs in the kitchen, not in battle surrounded by blood and death."

"Even a house-wife has to kill a chicken." I said. "Blood had nothing to do with it and neither does gender."

Gimli huffed and walked away. Clearly, being the only girl was going to cause some problems.

In the morning, we proceeded to the western Door of Moria, which is near a dark lake by the side of the mountain. At this point, they decided, much to mine Sam's chagrin, that we must let Bill the pony go. Sam was very quiet after that.

The Door was sealed with ancient magic.

"Now… let's see. Ithildin —" Gandalf muttered, placing his hand on over the stone. Blue-silvery lines appeared. "It mirrors only starlight… and moonlight." He said, mostly to himself it seemed. "It reads 'The Doors of Durin — Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked anxiously.

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open. Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!" _Gate of the Elves, open now for me!_

The Door remained closed, and I suppressed a giggle.

"Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen." _Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue. _He tried again and nothing happened.

"Nothing's happening." Pippin said, oh-so helpfully and Gandalf looked at him annoyed before turning back to the Door and trying to shove it open.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves… Men… and Orcs." He muttered looking about the Door trying to find some sort of clue that would tell him what he was to do.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin asked curiously.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

We had to solve a riddle, though at first, no one knew it was a riddle, to get inside. We sat there for hours waiting for Gandalf to figure it out. Of course I knew the answer and I wanted to tell him _so badly_ but I didn't want to risk changing anything more than they probably already were.

"Are we lost?" Pippin's voice broke the silence.  
"No." Merry said sullenly.  
"I think we are."  
"Shh. Gandalf's thinkin'."  
"…Merry?"  
"What?"  
"I'm hungry."

I seriously love Pippin.

"Ando Eldarinwa… a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa…" _Gate of Elves… listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves…_

Gandalf sat, murmuring to himself, trying to find the words.

To ease his boredom, Merry was throwing rocks into the lake. Aragorn caught his hand, mid-throw.

"Do not disturb the water." He whispered.

"Oh it's useless." Gandalf exclaimed, throwing his staff on the ground and taking his hat off.

"It's a riddle." Frodo said standing and looking up at the moonlighted writing. "'Speak, 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?"

"Mellon." Gandalf said slowly. The doors opened slowly revealing only darkness.

Just as our Company was about to pass through the Door, we were attacked by a tentacled creature from the lake that tried to drag Frodo into the water. Aragorn began hacking at the long arms and Legolas shot at them until the creature dropped Frodo. Everyone rushed through the entrance and the octopus-creature thing slammed the Door behind us causing piles of boulders and uprooted trees to block out exit. We were now committed to the journey through Moria.

Once inside the Mines, the Fellowship was glad to have Gandalf's guidance, as the caves are vast and intricate. Since the Wizard has been through Moria before, he led the way, lighting the passages ahead with his glowing staff. We walked for miles, me occasionally singing to myself, through twisting passages and over great, gaping pits.

After several hours of walking, our group came to a fork in the path that stumped Gandalf. We decided to stop for the night while the Wizard mulled the problem over. We spend the night in a room off to one side of the path.

"I'm bored." Pippin said. Well we couldn't have any of that.

"I'm going to tell you the story," I said, pulling out my mini flashlight and turning it on, casting eerie shadows across my face. "Of the Vashta Nerada."

"What's the Vashta Nerada?" Pippin asked.

"Shadows. Meat eating, living shadows."

"That doesn't make any sense." Frodo said. "Shadows can't be alive." But when he thought of all the things that he's seen, he realized his statement didn't make any sense.

"These shadows are. They live in swarms and feed on whatever flesh they can find. They're capable of stripping people of their flesh in just a few milliseconds. They're the piranhas of the light. They live in darkness and cause shadows when exposed to light. Your best defense against them _is_ the light. It doesn't kill them, just slows them down. Whenever there's an inexplicable disappearance, the Vashta Nerada are behind it. They live everywhere, on every planet. They can be any shadow at any time. Any time you see a shadow that's not cast by anything…run. Just run. If you ever see anyone with a second shadow, it's too late for them. Stay out of the darkness, don't touch the shadows. Light is your best defense and your feet are your best friend."

"I'm scared." Pippin said in a quiet voice.

"Good." I said successfully. "Fear makes you run fast."

A few minutes later, Pippin raised Gandalf's ire by carelessly tossing a pebble down a seemingly bottomless well in the room, probably to see how long it took for it to reach the bottom; the noise of the pebble falling appeared to awaken something far below and I knew what it was. I was almost certain Gandalf knew too but he didn't say anything about it.

"Fool of a Took." He said angrily.

Later that night, Gandalf relieved Pippin of his watch, as the Wizard couldn't sleep for all of his worrying over which path to take. He decided that he needed a smoke to soothe his nerves, so he lit a pipe.

The next morning, Gandalf chose a path, thank God. When we found ourselves in an enormous, splendid underground hall with great pillars and shining walls, he said he had chosen correctly. Our group stopped, and Gimli and Gandalf told of the history of Moria. The Dwarves mined the caves for _Mithril,_ a metal of almost magical beauty and strength. Gandalf mentioned that the dwarf Thorin once gave Bilbo a shirt of mail made of _Mithril_—a gift worth more than the entire Shire put together.

The next morning dawned, and some light shone into the hall from windows built into the side of the mountain. Gandalf believed he knew the correct path, but he decided he wanted to take a look around first. We came upon a large, square chamber, dimly lit by the sun through huge shafts in the mountain above. In the middle of the room is a block of stone, inscribed with runes—it is the tombstone of Balin, the Dwarf-king. Gimli cast his hood over his face in mourning. Things got really quiet as the Dwarf sat in agonizing silence.


	13. Chapter 13

**Suggestions, suggestions, suggestions! They make the world go 'round! **

**Yeah, so I have major writing block; any suggestions?**

**And I know, some of you probably want to kill me for making you think I wrote another chapter—sorry, really. I don't like making full chapter author notes, but I'm seriously lost in the story right now.**

**PLZ HELP!**

**Also, more reviews would be nice if it's not too much trouble**

**And, some of you probably don't know, when I posted the last chapter, I got reviews saying it seemed sort of rushed, so I rewrote it—just in case you read it and didn't reread it:)**


	14. Chapter 15

_**Chap. 15**_

Gandalf walked about the tomb and found an old, half-burned book among the bones and broken shields. He pushed his hair out of his face and began reading in a quiet, sad tone.

"'We have barred the gates ... can hold them long if ... horrible ... suffer ... We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frá and Lóni and Náli fell there. ... Went five days ago ... the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes ... drums, drums in the deep ... They are coming.'"

Shaken, we were about to leave when we heard the booming of a drum deep below them, along with the noise of many running feet. Aragorn and Borimir rushed forward to bar the west door of the chamber just as a troop of Orcs arrived, along with a great cave-troll which forced its way through the door.

Frodo stabbed its foot with Sting and the monster withdrew. Not nearly as scary as it looked, believe me.

The Orcs broke through the door and we fought them off with anger and adrenaline. The rest retreated.

Gandalf saw a chance to escape, so he led the Company out through the unguarded east door but an Orc-chieftain caught up with us in an instant and stabbed Frodo in the side. The Company gasped in surprise as they saw the Hobbit was still alive. At a look from Gandalf, he revealed the shirt of Mithril and everyone—apart from Gandalf and I—gazed in awe at the kingly gift. But one Mithril shirt wouldn't save us all from what was coming.

Gandalf held the door shut with a closing spell allowing the rest of us to get out, but he felt a powerful counter-spell from the other side. The ensuing battle of spells collapsed the doorway, and then the entire room. The wearied wizard rejoined the Company and leaded us down toward the lower halls. Finally, we came to the Second Hall, just opposite the gate that leads out of Moria. We ran across the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, a slender arch of rock over a seemingly bottomless chasm.

Something was coming up behind us. What it was could not be seen: it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it. It came to the edge of the fire and the light faded as if a cloud had bent over it. Then with a rush it leaped across the fissure. The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongues of fire; in its left it held a whip of many thongs.

Down the Centre stalked a double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again, flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air.

As we turned to look back, Legolas cried out in horror, saying that it was a Balrog that was after us and Gimli covered his eyes.

Out of a band of Orcs leapt a great shadowy form, wreathed in flame and yet surrounded by shadow and darkness.

The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.  
"You cannot pass,'" he said. The Orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûdun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."  
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on the bridge, and suddenly it drew himself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall; but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm.

From out of the shadow a red sword leaped flaming.

Glamdring glittered white in answer.

There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire...

Aragorn hurriedly led the Company out of the Great Gates of Moria. We stumbled a mile or so away from the mountain and then all collapsed in grief at what we had just seen.

It seemed that Gandalf had defeated the creature. He had turned around to join us and the Fellowship was so sure he'd done it; I could see it in their faces. When suddenly, out of the shadowy chasm, the whip shot out and wrapped around the Wizard's ankle, as though to say, 'I'm not going down without _you_, Fool.'

The next few seconds were horrible: Frodo was shouting for Gandalf who made a vain attempt to climb back up and when he couldn't, gazed at the Company with a look so sad, so hopeless and defeated, and in a tone that reflected his eyes said, "Fly, you fools."

And then he let go. Just like that. I could've warned him. I know that. But I didn't. Instead, I let what was to happen, happen. Who am I to change things because I don't want to see them?

Now I was left to sit with the Fellowship as they replayed what had just happened again and again in their minds. Sam held his head in his hand and cried. Pippin had collapsed almost instantly and Merry held him as they wept openly. Frodo wandered about, in shock I think, making no move to remove the tears from his cheeks.

I think that's part of what made all this so sad; not one of them even tried to hide their sorrow. Gandalf was just that loved. And I couldn't relieve them of their pain by telling them the thing that only I knew. So I sat with them and empathized—I cried too.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

how many of you LotR book readers realized I used quotes and descriptions right from the book?:)


	15. Chapter 16

_**Chap. 16**_

.Smith: now all I can think about is dementors and chocolate, thank you SO much lol

With Gandalf lost, Aragorn assumed command of the Company. Hopeless though they all felt, the Ranger led us all away from the Misty Mountains and toward the Elvish forest of Lothlórien (often simply called Lórien). Stopping briefly to tend to Frodo's injury, Aragorn was once again amazed to find Bilbo's coat of _Mithril,_ which saved Frodo from his spear wound in Moria. The only mark left was a bruise the size of my palm.

Moving on, we came to a deep well of crystal-clear water. Legolas and Aragorn were relieved to arrive at Lórien, but Borimir was wary; among Men, the name of the forest is surrounded by strange rumors.

Legolas told the others of the history of Lothlórien: sorrow came in the Dark Days, when the Dwarves awakened the evil in Moria that then spread out into the hills and threatened Lórien. He sang a song about it but his voice soon faltered and the song ceased.

"I cannot sing anymore," he said. "That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, Lórien of the Blossom, when the Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains."

"But the Dwarves did not make the evil," said Gimli.

"I said not so; yet evil came," answered Legolas sadly.

A little while later, Legolas was climbing a tree to get a better idea of where we were when a voice commanded in Elvin for him to get down. Pippin asked who the voices were that were speaking and Sam told him they were elves, and couldn't he hear them?

"Yes, they are Elves," said Legolas; "and they say that you breathe so loud that they could shoot you in the dark."

Sam hastily put his hand over his mouth.

Legolas ran lightly up, and Frodo followed slowly; behind came Sam, trying not to breathe loudly.

I have to say, I forget that that was going to happen, and they freaked me right out.

Luckily, the elves recognized Legolas as kindred and had also heard something of Frodo's quest, so they brought us up to their tree-platforms. After night fall, a company of Orcs passes underneath, chasing after the Fellowship, us, but the creatures were waylaid by the Elves.

Frodo pointed out another strange creature—a small, crouching shape with pale eyes—but it slipped away into the night.

"A dwarf!" Haldir had said. "That is not well. We have not had any dealings with Dwarves since the Dark Days. They are not permitted in our land. I cannot allow him to pass. If Aragorn and Legolas will guard him, and answer for him, he shall pass; but he must go blindfold through Lothlórien."

This was not all to the liking of Gimli.

"The agreement was made without my consent," he said. "I will not walk blindfold like a beggar or a prisoner. And I am no spy. My folk have never had dealings with any of the servants of the Enemy. Neither have we done harm to the Elves. I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions."

"A plague on Dwarves and their stiff necks!" said Legolas.

"But I will be content, if only Legolas here shares my blindness.

"I am an Elf, and a kinsman here," said Legolas, becoming angry in his turn.

"Now let us cry: "a plague on the stiff neck on Elves!" Said Aragorn.

So all the members of the Fellowship were led blindfolded into the Naith, or heart, of Lórien. Once we arrived, Haldir received word that the Lady Galadriel, queen of the forest, has decreed that the Fellowship's blindfolds may be removed.

Really, it took them long enough. Being blindfolded is no fun.

When the blindfolds were taken off, the company beheld a forest that seemed to belong to another age. Its trees and flowers surpass the beauty of any other growing things, and the light and colors are ethereal golds and greens. We were at Cerin Amroth; a hill with a double ring of trees that is, in Aragorn's words, "the heart of Elvendom on earth." Haldir took Frodo and Sam up to a platform on top of the trees, from which they gazed at the enchanted land surrounding them, noticing also the forbidding lands beyond. While they were up there, Aragorn had slipped into a powerful and blissful daydream.

Never good when you've been traveling for weeks and suddenly end up in an enchanted forest. People begin to think you're either crazy or in danger.

At that moment, I think we were all a little bit of both.

**Shoot, I've been spelling Boromir wrong! I spelled it with two I's:( **

**I suck**

**R&R, I haven't been getting any reviews, I'm beginning to think I suck…do I?**

**Is the story getting boring?**

**I should kill myself *holds up gun and looks down the barrel* places against head* puts it back down***

**Psych, gotcha, suckers! Sorry to disappoint**

**But seriously, no suicide**


	16. Chapter 17

**Chap. 17**

The grim years had been removed from Aragorn's face, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord, tall and fair and he spoke words in the Elvish tongue to one whom no one else could see.

"Arwen, vanimelda, namarie!"

He drew a deep breath and looked at Frodo with a smile.

"Here is the heart of Elvendom on Earth." He said. "And here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we must tread, you and I. Come with me!"

He took Frodo's hand and left the hill of Cerin Amroth.

…

By the time we got moving again, the sun was sinking behind the mountain and the shadows were deepening in the woods. The elves uncovered their silver lamps as night grew.

Suddenly we came out into a large clearing under a pale evening sky pricked by a few early stars. There was a wide treeless space before us—perfect for a set of cartwheels, but I have a feeling they wouldn't have appreciated my doing that. The space ran in a great circle and bending either way on either hand. Beyond, there was a deep fossa lost in soft shadow, but the grass upon its brink was green, as if it glowed still in memory of the sun that had gone. Mallorn-trees grew taller than I or any of the Fellowship had ever seen on the further side of the depression. An infinite number of lights gleamed green, gold and silver in the ever-moving branches.

"Welcome to Caras Galadhon!" Haldir said turning to our company. "Here is the city of the Galadhrim where dwell the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel the Lady of Lórien. But we cannot enter here, for the gates do not look northward. We must go round to the southern side, and the way is not short, for the city is great."

There was a road paved with white stone running on the outer brink with the fossa and we turned west. We crossed a white bridge to the great gates of the city. Haldir knocked and spoke and the gates opened soundlessly but no guards could be seen. We were in a deep lane between the ends of the wall and when we passed through it, entered the City of Trees. There were many voices, but no footsteps could be heard. High up on the hill you could hear singing falling like soft rain upon leaves. I can't tell you how many paths we went along nor how many stairs we climbed, but eventually we came to the high places and saw a shimmering fountain in the center of a wide lawn. It was lit be silver lamps that swung form boughs of trees and fell into a basin of silver, from which poured a white stream. On the south side stood what had to be the greatest tree ever—and I assume I'm right; Tolkien described it as the mightiest of all trees and: its smooth bole gleamed like grey silk and up it towered until its first branches, far above opened their huge limbs under shadowy clouds of leaves. A broad white ladder stood beside it and three tall elves wearing chain mail and white cloaks sat at the ladder's feet. They sprang up as the group approached.

"Her dwell Celeborn and Galadriel." Haldir said. "It is their wish that you should ascend and speak with them."

One of the wardens blew a clear note on a small horn, which was answered three times from somewhere above our heads.

"I will go first." Continued Haldir. "Let Frodo come next and with him Legolas. The others may follow as they wish. It is a long climb for those who are not accustomed to such stairs but you may rest upon the way."

…

**I'm so sorry for the long wait for the next chapter; computer problems and writers block, and sometimes, pure laziness tend to cause delays. Again, I apologize. And I know, my chapters have been getting shorter and this chapter would've been longer but I was soooooo tired when wrote this—crying will do that to you—weird, right? Anyway, fine now…and another chapter up! Awesome! I'm so excited right now. Does anyone else get super happy when working on stories and/or posting a new chapter?**

**R&R!**


	17. Chapter 18

**Chap. 18**

I wasn't ready for a climb. If anything, I wanted to sleep…or eat…Maybe sleep…and then eat? Or maybe eat then sleep…I dunno. Bottom line, I was tired, hungry and didn't want to climb. But climb I did; high, high and higher past many flets.

Upon entrance, Celeborn greeted everyone in the Fellowship by name.

"Welcome Aragorn son of Arathorn! It is eight and thirty seven years of the world outside since you came to this land; and those years lay heavy on you." Whatever that means. "But the end is near, for good or ill. Here lay aside your burden for a while."

"Welcome son of Thranduil. Too seldom do my kindred journey hither from the North."

_Seriously, these people talk weird._

"Welcome Gimli son of Gloin. It is long indeed since we saw one of Durin's folk in Caras Galadhon. But today we have broken our long law. May it be a sign that though the world is now dark, better days are hand, and that friendship shall be renewed between our peoples."

Gimli bowed low.

Okay, so he didn't address the Hobbits, Borimir or me…What does that say? Let's think…Yeah, I really don't what that says, but, hey, I think we were all too tired to care—let alone notice.

Everyone sat in front of Celeborn and he looked over the small group—well, small_er _group.

"Here there are nine," he said. "Ten were set out: so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard. Elrond is far away and darkness gathers between us, and all this year the shadows have grown longer."

"Nay, there was no change of counsel." Lady Galadriel said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was clear and musical but deeper than you would expect from a woman. "Gandalf the Grey set out with the company, but he did not cross the borders of this land. Now tell us where he is, for I much desired to speak with him again. But I cannot see him from afar unless he comes within the fences of Lothlórien. A grey mist is about him, and the ways of his feet and of his mind are hidden from me."

"Alas!" said Aragorn. "Gandalf the Grey fell into Shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape."

All the elves in the hall cried out in grief and amazement.

"These are evil tidings," Celeborn said. "The most evil that have been spoken here in long years full of grievous deeds." He turned to Haldir and the only reason I know what he said next—he was speaking in Elven—is because I read the book. _"Why had none of this been told to me before?"_

"We have not spoken to Haldir of our deeds or our purpose." Legolas said. "At first we were weary and danger was too close behind; and afterwards we almost forgot our grief for a time as we walked in gladness on the fair paths of Lórien."

"Yet our grief is great and our loss cannot be mended." Frodo said softly but bravely. "Gandalf was our guide and he led us through Moria and when our escape seemed beyond hope he saved us, and he fell."

Celeborn asked for the full tale and I tuned out as Aragorn recounted everything that had happened in the mines. Legolas and Gimli put in their two cents worth, the former saying it was a Balrog that killed Gandalf and the latter saying it was Durin's bane—another thing to tie the Elves and Dwarves together again. Celeborn said that Gandalf was a fool for going needlessly into the mines, but Galadriel shot down that statement, saying that none of Gandalf's deeds were needless and that it wasn't Gimli's fault either that this had happened, as Celeborn had hinted at in his statement. Seems to me Celeborn is pretty judging when it comes to other's faults—good thing he's married to Galadriel; she seems to keep balance that out pretty evenly.

_Jeez, I must be tired if I'm thinking about couples after a near-death experience. _

"Dark is the water of Kheled-zaram and cold are the springs of Kibil-nala and fair were the many-pillared halls of Khazad-dûm in elder days before the fall of mighty kings beneath the stone." Galadriel looked at Gimli who sat sadly and she smiled. The dwarf looked up upon hearing the names spoken in his own tongue and looked into her eyes. Tolkien said it seemed to Gimli that he looked suddenly into the heart of an enemy and saw there love and understanding. He stood and bowed in dwarf-fashion.

"Yet more fair is the land of Lórien, and the Lady Galadriel is beyond all the jewels that lie beneath the Earth!"

Long, awkward pause…I grinned and looked down trying really hard not to laugh. I don't know why I found this so absurdly funny, but I did. I mean, Gimli all but screamed that he thought Galadriel was drop dead gorgeous, and all in front of her husband!

"I did not know that your plight was so evil." Celeborn said, and boy that could've meant so many different things, had he not elaborated—taking into account that he didn't hear it the way my tired mind did. "Let Gimli forget my harsh words." And again… "I spoke in the trouble of my heart. I will do what I can to aid you, each according to his wish and need, but especially that one of the little folk who bears the burden."

**His**_ wish and need…okay._

"Oh, I'm a boy now, thanks for telling me." I said without thinking, in the mildly sarcastic, loud tone of a person just realizing something important. I wish my mouth had a brain. Everyone was staring now…Déjà vu…hadn't something like this happened at Rivendell?

"Uh," I said awkwardly. "Sorry. Just…ignore me. I didn't mean to say anything."

I went back to fiddling with my hair. The single braid was giving me a headache. I couldn't wait to take it out; it'd been in the same style since we left Rivendell.

Galadriel continued speaking, both to comfort the Fellowship and to explain things that I guess she felt needed explaining. She said that, originally, it would have been Gandalf governing the White Council and, had things happened according to plan, what occurred that day may have gone differently. But there was still hope left even though she wouldn't tell us what to do, as that wouldn't help us in the quest. The only way she could help was by knowing the past, present and future—I personally didn't understand her logic but I kept my mouth shut.

"But this I will say to you," she finished. "Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true."

I didn't look up as she held each of the Fellowship with her eyes. Instead I kept my face hidden effectively by the top of my head and picked at my thumb nail, humming to myself like I didn't know she was looking at me. Yeah, I can be chicken sometimes—what about it?

"Do not let your hearts be troubled." She said at last. "Tonight you shall sleep in peace."

I heard the rest of the group sigh wearily and was instantly glad I hadn't let her speak to me in my mind. For some reason it just freaked me out—kinda like Galadriel herself. I mean, she didn't scare me…mostly annoyed me. I don't know why…maybe it was the way she talked or how she always looked high. Hey, that's just my opinion. If it helps, she _is_ pretty.

Don't kill me!

Celeborn let us go, saying that we wouldn't speak of the rest of the journey for a while. Some of us thanked him and Galadriel. Aragorn, Frodo and Legolas spoke in Eleven. Pippin, however, spoke in Spanish.

"Me llamo Biblioteca." He said. I blinked and looked at him in surprise. Granted, I'd only been teaching Spanish for about three days, but…what was he trying to say? That was my main question. We were led to where we were to sleep and I leaned close to Pippin, speaking loud enough for the others to hear. I'm mean that way.

"You just said your name is library." I told him, earning a laugh form everyone in the Fellowship. He blushed slightly and muttered a quiet "oh" as we continued following the guide back down the long ladder.

Much to the satisfaction of the Hobbits, we slept on the ground that night. The Elves spread a pavilion with soft couches near the fountain. They spoke words of peace with soft, fair voices and left us.

"What did you blush for, Sam?" Pippin asked. "You soon broke down. Anyone would have thought you had a guilty conscience. I hope it was nothing more than a wicked plot to steal one of my blankets."

"I never thought no such thing." He answered, in no mood to joke. "If you want to know, it felt as if I had nothing on and I didn't like it. She seemed to be looking inside me and asking what I would do if she gave me the chance of flying back home to the Shire to a nice little hole—with a bit of a garden of my own."

"That's funny." Merry said. "Almost exactly what I felt myself, only…only, well I don't think I'll say anymore."

I smirked as I undid the braid that had been in my hair for too long.

"And it seemed to me, too," Gimli said, arranging his bed. "That my choice would remain secret and known only to myself."

"To me it seemed exceedingly strange." Borimir said. "Maybe it was only a test and she read our thoughts for her own good purpose; but almost I should have said that she was tempting us and offering what she pretended to have the power to give. It need not be said that I refused to listen. The men of Minas Tirith are true to their word."

But he didn't say what he thought Galadriel had offered. He did, however, push Frodo for what _he_ had experienced and said that he himself was suspicious of the Lady's intentions. Aragorn chided him for speaking in such a way.

We stayed in Lórien for a couple days. It seemed all the Fellowship could talk about was Gandalf and how they had known him. As I'm sure you can imagine, I was quiet for the most part, as I had barely known the Wizard—as a friend at least. Occasionally we would hear Elves making laments and songs for Gandalf nearby.

"_Mithrandir, Mithrandir_," they sang. _"Oh Pilgrim Grey!"_

They loved to call him that. Legolas wouldn't translate what they said, as he didn't have the skill and the grief was still to near—a time for tears, not yet song. Frodo also wrote a song for him, and he doubted he would ever be as good as his uncle.

_When evening in the Shire was grey _

_his footsteps on the Hill were heard; _

_before the dawn he went away _

_on journey long without a word. _

_From Wilderland to Western shore, _

_from northern waste to southern hill, _

_through dragon-lair and hidden door _

_and darkling woods he walked at will. _

_With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men, _

_with mortal and immortal folk, _

_with bird on bough and beast in den, _

_in their own secret tongues he spoke. _

_A deadly sword, a healing hand, _

_a back that bent beneath its load; _

_a trumpet-voice, a burning brand, _

_a weary pilgrim on the road. _

_A lord of wisdom throned he sat, _

_swift in anger, quick to laugh; _

_an old man in a battered hat _

_Who leaned upon a thorny staff. _

_He stood upon the bridge alone _

_and Fire and Shadow both defied; _

_his staff was broken on the stone, _

_In Khazad-dûm his wisdom died. _

Sam suggested he put in a verse for the Wizard's fireworks, something like this:

_The finest rockets ever seen: _

_they burst in stars of blue and green, _

_or after thunder golden showers _

_came falling like a rain of flowers_

…

One night I was lying on my back, tossing my lock pick up in the air and catching it. It looked so small when it was folded in on itself.

"What is that?" Pippin asked leaning forward from where he sat on his couch-made-bed to get a better look.

"It's a lock pick." I said without looking at him. From the corner of my eye, I saw Aragorn sharply look at me in surprise. "How'd you think I got out of those handcuffs that night at Weathertop?" I said amusedly. "Lucky I thought to put it in my pocket, really…you know, my dad gave this to me when I was eight. It belonged to my mom."

"Oh." Pippin said, surprised. "What happened to her?"

"She died, what else?"

"Ena, I think he meant, _how_ did she die?" Aragorn replied, oh-so helpfully.

"Right." Some people just don't know when to drop it. "She was sick; Leukemia. I was two—almost three."

"You must miss her." Borimir said softly. I shrugged awkwardly in my lying down position.

"I don't really remember her. But…I remember she was sick, so we took her to see a doctor. They put her in a bed and she took a nap, like you're supposed to do when you're sick."

…

_But then, one day, she wouldn't wake up. I remember confusion and the vague knowledge in my infant mind that something was wrong with my mommy and the doctor's couldn't help her. _

_I don't know if any of these memories are real or just how I imagined things happening when my told me about it. But there is one memory I know is real: my daddy holding me; me, still a baby for all intents and purposes. I was barely three, after all. Me, gripping his shirt in my tiny fists and him holding me in the hug of a lost person and rocking us both back and forth in a smooth motion. Back and forth, we rocked. Back and forth, back and forth. _

"_I've got you, baby." He whispered again and again as the doctors rushed about. "It's alright. I've got you."_

"_I got you." I'd whispered back. Daddy was sad. He must've been worried about mommy. "Is alright, Daddy."_

_He held me tighter and then pulled away as the doctor approached. He said something in a somber tone and I felt my daddy go slack and he began to shake. I'd looked him in the eye. In all the months we'd been coming to the hospital, he'd never looked sadder. _

_The doctor pushed a button at the head of the bed and then they took my mommy away._

"_You're not alone, Honey." Daddy whispered. "Never…never."_

…

"My dad died about eleven years later."

"I think I understand you better now, Ena." Aragorn said.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Why you do not make attachments, your lack of trust, your quick, sarcastic remarks at those you do not yet know."

"I never said I didn't trust you or anyone." I said defensively.

"'Tis very clear, I'm afraid."

"You would have trouble forming trust and attachments if you went through what I went through."

"I lost my mother when I was young." He said. "As did Frodo, Legolas and Borimir."

"Your guys' father figures are still alive. You didn't have to raise yourselves on the street for nearly two years and spend the first six months bouncing around to eleven different foster homes—Different families every time, always kicked out or switched because you just weren't right. Because you didn't have the right hair or eye color, because you were too old, because you were too freaky, because you weren't wanted…because you just weren't perfect enough."

"I am sorry." Legolas's voice spoke up, much to my surprise. "You did not deserve any of the toils you went through."

"Does anyone? You know, I have a list of all the families I stayed with. I wrote the family names on my arm every day. Now I won't ever forget. Sometimes…being kicked out was the best thing in the world."

I hadn't realized I said that out loud until after it was said and done. Too late to take back.

"There." I said, rubbing my thumb over the engraving on my lock pick. "I just told you my life story. Do you believe I trust you now?"

I certainly didn't. I mean, I trusted him, but I didn't believe I trusted him. Guess I can't even trust myself.

"_You're never alone."_

That's what the engraving says. I think I just then started to believe it again.

…

_**Hey guys! So, what'd ya think? Too much, too little, just right?**_

_**Ooh! I've been meaning to say something: my sister is also writing a fanfiction. It's called "Out of Space" and it's a LotR/ Doctor Who crossover. She hasn't gotten any reviews, so plz take a look! Her user name is SteamPunkRocker100.**_

_**R&R!**_

Notes: bless you


	18. Chapter 19

**Chap. 19**

That same night the group was again summoned to Celeborn's chamber where we were told to make our decision: stay in Lórien for a while longer or harden our hearts and continue on. And no offense, but if you don't know the answer, you're a dipwad.

"As for me," Boromir said. "My way home lies onward not back."

"That is true." Celeborn said. "But is all the Company going with you to Minas Tirith?"

"We have decided our course." Aragorn told him. "Beyond Lothlórien, I do not know what Gandalf intended to do. Indeed I do not think that even he had any clear purpose."

"Maybe not," said Celeborn, "yet when you leave this land, you can no longer forget the Great River. As some of you know well, it cannot be crossed by travelers with baggage between Lórien and Gondor, save by boat. And are not the bridges of Osgiliath broken down and all the landings held now by the Enemy? On which side will you journey? The way to Minas Tirith lies upon this side, upon the west; but the straight road of the Quest lies east of the River, upon the darker shore. Which shore will you now take?"

"If my advice is heeded, it will be the western shore, and the way to Minas Tirith," answered Boromir. "But I am not the leader of the Company."

No one said anything—big step-up for me. Aragorn looked troubled.

"I see that you do not yet know what to do," said Celeborn. "It is not my part to choose for you; but I will help you as I may. There are some among you who can handle boats—Legolas, whose folk know the swift Forest River; and Boromir of Gondor; and Aragorn the traveler."

"And one Hobbit!" cried Merry. "Not all of us look on boats as wild horses. My people live by the banks of the Brandywine."

"That is well," said Celeborn. "Then I will furnish your Company with boats. They must be small and light, for if you go far by water, there are places where you will be forced to carry them. You will come to the rapids of Sarn Gebir, and maybe at last to the great falls of Rauros where the River thunders down from Nen Hithoel; and there are other perils. Boats may make your journey less toilsome for a while. Yet they will not give you counsel. In the end you must leave them and the River, and turn west or east."

Aragorn thanked Celeborn many times—the boats gave him much comfort because they lessened the responsibility of having to decide a course; at least for a few days. Everyone else was hopeful too—the idea of floating for a few days rather than trudging with the heavy baggage and all made everyone feel just that much better, despite the fact that our chances of survival were slim, at best.

Celeborn and Galadriel bade the Company good-night, promising the preparation of everything in the morning and wishing a peaceful sleep.

The group debated for a long time what we should do and after all that, didn't decide anything. Frodo didn't say anything, Aragorn was torn and of course, Boromir volunteered to go Minas Tirith himself.

I glanced up from playing with my lock pick, with the feel that someone was looking at me.

I wasn't wrong. Just a few feet away, half hidden by the trees stood an elf. I didn't recognize him but when our eyes met he beckoned me to follow. So when he turned away and disappeared into shadow, I followed.

I walked for a few minutes behind him silently; neither of us spoke, not until we reached a small space in the trees, like a mini clearing. He stopped in the middle of the space and I paused a few feet behind.

"You do not know me." He said without turning.

"No," I replied quietly, unsure.

"You do not know me." He repeated. "But I knew your father."

A jolt ran through my entire body and my eyes popped wider.

"My…" my lips moved but barely a breath escaped. I've no doubt he heard it though.

"Findecáno Nénharma was his name. A great man and a warrior. But also a lover. 'Tis why he left this place; our home."

I still couldn't speak.

_What do I say? What do I need to know? What do I __**want**__ to know?_

Based on this mystery-elf's tone, whatever I didn't know wasn't something that made him proud to know my dad. I mean, he left? Left what? And why? What did his being in love have to do with it?

"Many years ago, your father left so he would stay with your mother, Enelya Tulcakelumë. He was to leave to deal with...issues, far off; dangerous complications in one our many distant homelands and rather than go through with his duty, he left. I know not where they went but they were no longer part of this world. Findecáno—"

_Don'tsayitdon'tsayitdon'tsayit._

"Though a good friend and person—"

_Please don't say it._

"Is a deserter blinded by desire."

My chest constricted, squeezing my lungs dry of oxygen. I bent forward, pressing my hands to my knees, silently, desperately begging my lungs to work again. Emotions clashed inside me, screaming for domination, demanding to be heard. I was dizzy and wanted to run away but my feet wouldn't move; I could barely even feel them.

"I can't breathe." I whispered desperately. My dad was a deserter, but he did it out of love. In my world, desertion is punishable by jail time or even death, depending on the circumstances. If he had been a deserter there for love, what would the punishment be?

_OhGodohGodohGodohGod._

A hand touched my shoulder gently and mystery-man continued to speak.

"I do not blame him. But there are those of us who would and do blame him for his actions. Some would hate you as well for being his daughter."

I crouched low and put my head down burying my face in my hands, breathing slowly in through my nose, out through my mouth. I was having a panic attack. I remember feeling something like this the day my dad died, electrocuted by a loose wire or something.

"The white in your hair is a mark of your origin. Your parents are of Lórien, you are an heir here but you were not born here."

"Why didn't it change till we got to Rivendell?" I asked trying to take my mind off what I was feeling.

"Your body, the magic within you did not comprehend where you were until it came in contact with the magic there, our kin."

I sniffled and held my breath to keep the tears from falling. Was I ashamed of my dad? Proud? What would I have done in his position?

"How does he fair, Findecáno?"

"He's dead."

I heard a sharp intake of breath and he sank to his knees beside me.

"Enelya?" he asked quietly.

"She died when I was two."

I looked up into his face and saw tears in his eyes, unfalling.

"You were friends?"

"Yes, they were like siblings to me."

"What's your name?"

"Aegnor Elendil."

"It's nice to meet you, Aegnor."

And it was.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

**Hey guys, I'm not dead! Isn't that great?**

**Pretty sure this is the longest it's taken me to get a chapter up and I had a reason but it seems pretty invalid now b/c it took place over three weeks ago, like, almost a month. Did I tell you I was in Grease? I forget, but that is the original reason I wasn't publishing and it went swimmingly by the way, whatever that means but then I was distracted by Homestuck and then it was just laziness that kept me from writing so I apologize, again. **

**Also, I need to clear things up: in the previous chapter Ena made a comment about "being a boy now" and I got a message saying she is stupid b/c she thought she was Frodo but that's not what happened. **

**What happened was Celeborn said everyone will be treated to HIS wish and need or something like that and then he said especially Frodo, but Ena was commenting about his sexist comment referring only to the men, she didn't randomly think she was Frodo or anything like that. **

**Hope that helps!**


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